Cruz
by PushTheButtton
Summary: Three years after the horror of being trapped in that basement, Olivia finds herself in the wild plains of a new state and filled with more secrets than she left with. *Post Undercover, Season 9.*
1. Chapter 1: Stream

**Hello all. So for those of you who know, this is a repost of the story I first posted over on SVUfiction before it went down. I've been going back and editing it so it'll be hopefully better than the last time. I originally planned for this to be an original story but I just couldn't pass up doing it this way. Thanks so much for reading and please let me know what you think. I'll try and have each chapter I have already written up every 4 or 5 days or so. :)**

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**Chapter 1: Stream**

She rests her weary body along the comfortable porch swing and revels in the light Spring breeze that cascades in from the evening air arriving from the west. The simple wafts of air rustle the fabric of her dress and it sounds like the stream she often dreams about, the soft trickling of water matching the ruffling of the cotton fabric.

As her dress billows, her legs dangle off the edge of the seat while she listens to the low moans of the porch as the swing slowly undulates back and forth. The coolness around her tingles her skin as she crosses her legs and lifts them up in the air as the fluid motion continues.

She closes her eyes to the darkening oranges sifting between the cotton clouds and lets go.

At the sounds of the cicadas growing louder and louder, she slowly and tentatively opens her eyes and tucks a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and a trace of a smile graces her lips.

She's content right now. The trees in front of her are illuminated with the dark red and orange glow of the impending sundown and another breeze whips through her dress sending a chill down her legs and arms. Her sleeveless, blue and white floral dress ripples against her body as she wraps her arms around her middle.

She pulls her legs up and crosses them Indian style over the wooden seat and leans her head back against the wooden back and admires the thousands of trees that line the horizon. It's so different from what she is used to but nonetheless appealing. This is homely.

Comfortable.

Serene.

Running her palms up and down her arms, she realizes the night will soon become too chilly to sit in just her light summer dress. So, she gently pulls her legs out from beneath her and sets them down against the smooth wood surface of her wrap around porch.

The surface is still warm from the receding sunlight and the bottoms of her feet tingle with warmth. She slips on her white sandals and walks back into her house, pulling on a sweater from off the back of her sofa before heading back outside.

It still surprises her how accustomed she has become to this life.

It's so quiet. So unbelievably quiet.

Other than the birds chirping, grasshoppers singing, locusts beaming and lightning bugs flaring, it is absolutely calm and full of serenity out here.

She steps onto nature's playground with with every motion and surprising even herself, she loves it every time.

Stepping down the four small white porch steps, she walks down the gravel pathway that leads to the edge of her luscious green yard. Even the grass out here is greener. The age old adage of the "grass is greener on the other side" even rings true to her.

She continues walking down the dusty, gravel road that runs in front of her home and watches as the glow of sundown washes upon the landscape around her.

As she falls steps and steps away from her solid white Victorian with light yellow shutters and a beautiful wrap around porch that sits in the middle of nothing but a vast sea of blue grass, her heart tingles at the sight. And as she continues to walk down the road, she can't help but glance back every once in awhile at the beautiful home. It's spacious and comfortable and welcoming. Everything that she needs.

A short trail soon appears near a shallow batch of trees to her right, and as she approaches it, she wonders why she finds herself leaving that comfort for the wildflowers and sky scraping trees of nature when she can't sleep.

As she starts to veer off in that direction away from the gravel of the main road, she realizes it's because of the stream. She walks along the pebbles and dust of the new trail as the sun dips lower and lower against the horizon and realizes the stream represents a feeling of continuum.

It just keeps going and going. Its path is tireless and its destination endless. It has no reason to stop and every reason to keep moving on to a newer and better place and that's what she holds onto. Her life will keep going even if she stops to take in her weary reflection in the surface of the water.

She wraps the sweater more tightly around her and takes a deep breath, breathing in the fresh forest air around her. As she strides idly amongst the low hanging branches, she notices just within the vast amount of trees bunched up in the middle of nowhere, a small trickling noise that reverberates through the calm.

She closes her eyes and breathes in even more of the forestry surrounding her, not hearing anything prompting civilization for miles. As she continues her trek, she becomes cognizant of the more than apparent trickling of a small stream just beyond the bushes.

The sound becomes more vivid and soothing as she gets closer; the movement of the small waves is an intimate and delicate melody to her ears.

She approaches a breech in the forest and looks up to see the skyline above her lose its last bit of light as it dissipates languidly from the air around her.

A trail of rocks appear before her and she realizes if she crosses them, they'll have to eventually take her to the beautiful sound she often dreams about.

She slides one sandled foot onto the first rock and lifts her dress slightly, taking one, two, three, four rocks across and then is immediately greeted with the pleasant sight and sound.

She smiles and reaches down to waft her slender fingers through the steady stream flowing before her. The intoxicating colors of sundown send beautiful oranges, purples and blues throughout the swirling current.

As she sits by the edge of the slow whirlpools of the shallow water, she pulls her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, listening to the constant flow of nature at its finest.

Her heart flutters at the subtle beauty of what stands before her. The sonance of it all sifts through the breeze and the soft rustle of branches calm her earlier goosebumps.

She's a million miles away it seems.

So far from where she used to stand. So far away from everything that came before this. She has needed this in so many ways and she can't help but feel content out here, listening to the quiet yet rampant sounds of this macrocosm surrounding her.

She looks back up to the sky and realizes that any sliver of light is going to disappear any minute. Before the soft silver glow of the moon arrives, she slowly gets back to her feet and stretches just as the subtle melody of the stream begins to make her eyes heavy with fatigue.

Often on nights when she has a hard time sleeping, she'll grab her flashlight and stumble upon the same dusty path and free herself to the tiny rhythmic waves.

Now, she straightens out her dress and easily moves herself across the rocks again, following the short path through the forestry and back to the main gravel road.

As she begins her short hike back towards the home she accompanies only with herself, she faintly hears a low rumble in the distance and glances back over her left shoulder. She pulls her sweater tighter and lightly jogs back to her front porch taking two steps at a time.

Hardly anyone takes this road. She and maybe two other people venture down the rocky surface and usually the days and nights pass without a single dust particle lifting from the surface.

Her closest neighbors live in a similar home about a quarter of a mile down the road and town sits a little bit further at about a mile and a half.

But as the crunching of tires gets closer, her body tenses as she drifts through her screen door, gently pulling it closed behind her. She stands quietly in the dark and watches as a set of headlights appear in the near distance.

The gravel popping and cracking under each rubber tire is the only sound in the desolate area. She can make out the dark velvet red of the truck and can see the light mud slashes on the side as if it's been on some naturist adventure.

The pick-up truck gets closer and she veers off to the side of the doorway as it approaches the front of her house.

Her home is completely dark with the exception of the plug in candle sitting in the window directly above the front porch.

And as if on cue, the dark red pick-up seems to slow down just as it passes directly in front of her drive way. It eventually slows to a stop, the tail lights a glaring red against the midnight blue of evening.

It sits there a few moments and for a minute she wonders if anyone is going to get out. The thought causes her throat to dry.

To her relief, the truck begins to move again and she breathes a sigh of relief as she closes the front door. It's so quiet out here on some instances, it's a little eerie when an alien vehicle ventures out this way.

She's not necessarily apprehensive about the people here, she had enough of that back _there_, it's just the semblance of possibly being found out and her quiet and contentment being interrupted by visitors that ruffles her resolve.

She toes off her sandals by the front door after locking it and trots down the hallway to her living room. As she enters, she notices the instant breeze that wafts through her dark brown waves from the small opening at the bottom of her floor to ceiling window.

Shear white curtains flow in whimsical waves as the breeze comes in reminding her of the day she had to buy a new set of them when a small black and white cat had stayed with her for a short time a few months ago.

She'd been alone and the tiny animal, no more than a few months old itself, had given her the company she hadn't known she had needed. But it had eventually clawed it's way up the shear material in fright of something in the house, ultimately ruining the old curtains.

She had felt sorry for the tiny cat but had put it outside in frustration and hadn't seen it since. She walks over to window and pulls the curtain away, pushing down the pane as it closes out the chilly night air.

The curtains immediately drop still against the window and the air inside the room becomes still. Picking up the remote off the coffee table, she settles down on the plush white sofa that sits in the center of the living room.

The grand entertainment center that holds her television immediately illuminates with color as she flips the television on. She sprawls her legs across the soft surface and pulls a small pillow under her head. The small blanket that rests against the back of the couch becomes her only accompaniment for the night as she throws it across her bare legs and pulls it just above her abdomen.

She blinks several times adjusting to the bright light emanating from the screen and turns it to a movie station, not even bothering to pay attention to what's playing.

Her eyes drift close and she listens to the distinct pattern of quietness that runs through her house. A soft hum of wind comes through the window filtering through the air, the soft sounds of the refrigerator buzz in the kitchen a few feet away, the soft click of the cuckoo clock in the hallway sounds and the gentle creak of the house settling into itself, easily lull her into into the darkness behind her eyelids.

The soft patter of her own breathing begins to fade as sleep inevitably surrounds her. The low voices continue to pour from her television and she quietly revels in the soothing timbres for surely they will eventually follow her into her dreams.

...

The sunshine peaks through the drapes and infiltrates the cracks of the material, shining directly onto her tan face. She pulls the blanket off of her feet and rests it over her eyes to block out the golden rays.

Faint chirping is heard from the outside, and a dull thumping resonates into the early morning air as a woodpecker bores into the surface of her lattice covered porch.

She must've turned her television off half asleep sometime during the night because the screen is black and her remote sits in the center of her glass coffee table.

She rolls onto her side and snuggles into her blanket, closing her eyes once again to let sleep overtake her. She tries to think of the steady stream hidden behind the small forest and tries to remember the lull and trickle of the clean water as it continues on it's tireless path to nowhere.

Minutes pass and she's almost gone again when a familiar crunching noise drifts to her ears. Even in the confines of her living room, she can hear the subtle sounds of a vehicle approaching again as clear as day.

Wearily, she sits up on the couch and just listens. Realizing it sounds like it's getting closer, she treads to the window she closed the night before and peers outside, looking in both directions.

The dust billows up in the air and she can't see it until it's only a few feet from her driveway. But there, in broad daylight, is the same dark red truck that drove by slowly the night before.

She quickly runs to the front door and slides her sandals back on and runs to get her keys to her jeep parked in the car port on the side of the house. She's about to run upstairs to grab her purse when she hears light knocking on her front door.

Her pulse quickens when she realizes that she doesn't know if she should continue on and get her purse so she can pretend she's not there, or if she should maybe just answer it and see who it is.

It could be important though she realizes the unlikeliness of that since she doesn't really know anyone around here, so whatever is, it's most likely beyond her control.

As she ponders what to do, the soft knocking sounds again against the heavy wood of her front door. Taking a deep breath, she fights off the lingering anxiety of someone invading her serenity and walks back down the steps. Before opening the door, she looks down at her car keys and debates once again whether or not to just make them think no one is home.

A few more seconds pass and a loud creak from her front porch sounds right in front of the front door and she's not sure if the person is leaving or pacing.

Slowly, she cracks open the door and as she eases the screen door open, a tall, muscular man wearing a white cowboy hat walks along the small sidewalk towards the pickup. As she steps out into the open she crosses her arms and gently clears her throat. "Can I help you?" she asks softly.

The man halfway down the sidewalk, stops in his tracks at the sound of her voice and briskly turns around facing her.

"Hiya, ma'am. Sorry to bother you. Umm... I know it's early but I was wondering if there was a phone I could use. See I live about two miles down, " he says pointing to his right, "and we've been without power for the past few days. If it's not a problem I'd sure appreciate it," he said with a hint of a twang in his accent. "I mean," he continues, "but if it is a problem, I understand, I hear there's a town right up the road," he replies looking down at his dark blue blue jeans and brown leather boots. He lifts his eyes back up from underneath his solid white cowboy hat that has a brown rope around the crown and gives her a bright smile with a set of perfect white teeth that match his hat.

She takes a deep breath and walks toward the edge of the porch before focusing back on him.

She's leery about letting strange men come into her house even out here, even as calm as it is, especially out here, in essentially the middle of nowhere. Plus she's in no physical position to fight off anyone. Her gun is locked in her box upstairs and she's not sure of her reflexes this early in the morning.

He seems innocent enough though. He said he lived about two-miles down the road and sounds like he is from around here and not some curious passerby stopping by for chit chat. And he does have a nice smile, she thinks to herself snidely.

Not one to let her guard down, she looks up to the sky and the sun shines down on both of them as she glances at his upper arms that glisten with a light sheen of sweat.

The muscles that protrude from underneath his tan t-shirt accentuate the deep tan that runs along his arms from what appears to be hours of working outside.

She brushes a hand through her hair contemplating what to tell him.

"Uh, well," she starts in a soft voice. Clearing her voice she adds, "I um, I don't have a phone either, see I just moved here about a few months ago and well I haven't really attempted to put phone service in my house yet. I'm sorry," she squints at him sadly as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

Almost immediately she wishes she could take back her words and come up with another excuse. It's true she doesn't have a land line service, it's just that's the last thing she wanted to share with a strange man, out in the middle of nowhere, who does have a nice smile, that she has little to no contact with the town nearby.

She thinks of her lock-box key in her pocket then. Time to get her piece out of the closet when he leaves, she thinks. Old habits die hard.

The man in the cowboy hat nods anyways and from his profile as he glances back at his truck, she can see the slight lift of his lips. She's caught off guard when he walks forward with an outstretched hand.

She hesitantly lifts her hand to his as he takes it with his and looks at her with his piercing hazel eyes. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kisses the back of her hand softly and lowers it back down to her side before speaking.

"Well, I'm sorry to bother you ma'am. I'll be sure to make my way towards town so I can call the electric company. But thank you anyway," he smiles at her and starts to walk away. Before he gets far he whips around and holds out his hand to her once again. "I'm sorry, but I'm Dominick. Nice to meet you. Sorry again for botherin'."

She reaches for his hand again giving him a wide smile of her own while he nervously shakes her hand. "No, I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help," she says hesitantly and he nods and starts to walk away again. "Oh," she calls out, "I'm Olivia... by the way."

He takes his hat off, putting it against his chest as he nods down toward the ground slightly. "Well, it's been a pleasure to have met you, Olivia." He smiles once again, positioning his hat back on his short brown hair tinged with the slightest bit of gray and walks back toward the driver seat of the truck and then pulls away.

Olivia stands there watching for a few moments as the tires of the truck crunch the gravel and send a soft plume of dust and smoke into the air. As the tail end of the truck disappears into the after noon, she takes a deep breath and wipes her brow with the back of her hand thankful for once that this isn't the city.

She walks back up to the porch and glances over her shoulder once again at where the nice man with the cowboy hat, and nice smile, stood not even five minutes before.

Maybe the quiet isn't so bad after all in South Dakota.

tbc.


	2. Chapter 2: Deja Vu

**I just also want to say thank you to the kind reviews. I'm glad this was well received the first time but Lord knows it needs some revisions and by revisions, I don't mean changing the content, just the quality of the writing. LOL. Thanks again and as always, I'd love to hear what you think of the second go and if it's the first time, the first go. **

**PTB.**

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**Chapter 2: Deja Vu**

They are not as bad as they once were.

They had occurred less and less once she had met_ him._ He

_He_ had been a distraction and they had been bad when she had first moved here because she had still been numb, raw and ashamed then.

That was three years ago.

He had taken them away with his beautiful smile, calming voice, gentle touch, reassuring words, generous soul and beautiful hazel eyes.

Hazel eyes just like the one's she saw this morning in Dominick.

But Dominick was merely an illusion. Not him.

The occurrences had diminished to almost nothing once she had met him, fell for him and gave her heart to him. Her heart was in a different place and she no longer had to feel the constant pain. The constant visions. The constant reminder of why she was here in the first place, in this new place, new city, a new world it had felt like.

South Dakota.

The fresh air of the new state and one of the only two men she had ever let get close had slowly pulled her into a new line of thought and out of the dark hole she had been trapped in.

Because of Brady Dalton, she had been finding a new side to life. The man who walked into her life the week she moved to South Dakota, had walked into her life then, and in all likelihood, would essentially never leave again.

Because of him, _they_ will never be quite as deterring as they once had.

The flashbacks.

Three years ago her life changed. Her mind went somewhere dark and she knew, knew she had to leave. She had to leave New York City, the place she grew up, her former comfort, the job. Everything. It wasn't healthy anymore to keep doing what she was doing.

Taking sexual predators off the streets wasn't what was keeping her together anymore, it was what was putting her into her own personal hell. Because, she hadn't kept the predators away. Away from others, maybe. But from herself?

No. She had failed.

Lowell Harris had taken from her in the worst possible way. He had taken away her fight, her drive, her conscience. Her partner. Her life.

He hadn't even raped her but he had taken so much from her emotionally that she knew; she knew only a few months after it all happened that she had to get away. For how long, she had no idea.

Being trapped in that dark, musty basement with no where to go, clung in the back of her every thought. His hands, his smell, his words had attached themselves to her and she remembered thinking if she ever get out of there, she'd never be the same.

But, she did make it out. She made it and now she stands in front of the mirror inside her bathroom. The mirror is fogged up from her hot shower, the same shower that houses many of her thoughts.

She looks at herself in the reflection. She is Olivia Benson still. Olivia Benson the daughter of a drunk. Olivia Benson the Siena Grad. Olivia Benson the nurturer. Olivia Benson the woman.

One thing she can't seem to make herself out to be still is Olivia Benson the Detective. The cop.

That is one of the many precious things Lowell Harris stole from her and the thought makes her cringe.

With Brady, she had told him everything. The basement. Lowell Harris. The sexual assault.

After it all had come out of her mouth, the nightmares had started to fade. It was easier to breathe. She had spoken and he had listened. The flashbacks faltered and he had soothed her back to the woman she had always known she could be.

His words of encouragement held power and he had been everything she had needed to get back on track for two straight years.

And in all of that support, comfort and love she had been just out of reach of back in New York, she never realized how much she had changed from the cop, to this woman standing before her.

She still sees Brady standing on her sidewalk in front of her porch the third day she had been moving into her new home. He had been driving down her street seeing her struggling with her mattress and had stopped. Her house had only been a single story ranch uptown then and she was reluctant at first but he'd been so helpful and willing.

His dark hair, bright white smile, beautifully deep voice and tan cowboy hat, had immediately caught her attention. He was built from solid muscle, all six feet of him and she could never forget the way he felt against her palms as she helped him push and pull her belongings into the house.

She hasn't had any flashbacks of her time at Sealview for almost a year. Until moments ago. She had been washing her hair when she remembered the prison showers and the bright orange jumpsuit that had been laid out for her. She had gasped, dropping the soap on the floor.

Random pieces flit through her mind always, and just enough them linger there to remind her that it was a big stamp in her history, her story.

As she continues to glance at her reflection in the mirror, the mid morning sun gleams through the white blinds of the small bathroom window, casting bright white and yellow rays across the fairly large bathroom with it's smooth white walls. She pushes a wet strand of dark brown hair from her lips and tightly wraps her green, fluffy towel around her body.

Taking a deep breath, she steps away from the mirror and heads toward her bedroom across the hall. Small puddles of water collect on the hardwood floor as she tiptoes with damp feet across the surface and she imagines she'll feel guilty about that later.

Brady hated that the wood floors weren't in prime condition. It had been his intention to replace the floors after they moved in and always cursed at the water damage each time he saw them because the previous owner had failed to have it fixed after a bad storm one year.

She had never minded it but it had been on Brady's to do list and she had respected that.

As she reaches for the handle of her bedroom door, she's still glancing back at the wet footprints when the silence around her is crashed by a distinct noise in the distance.

_Oh my God._

It's bells, she realizes. Extremely large bells. As she opens her bedroom door, she remembers very distinctly that very sound from a couple of years ago. Church bells. Even though she lives a mile from town, through the silence and space of the open landscape around her, the distinct sound travels all the way to her bedroom.

She turns around, still clad in a towel, and sits on the edge of her bed letting the sound stir up a vivid memory of the day two years ago.

_"Hurry, you're going to get all wet Olivia!" Brady exclaims standing on the sidewalk underneath the large awning set outside the church. _

_"Hold your horses," she chuckles at the irony of her words. The rain comes down in steady slants and her long, light pink church dress clings to her legs as she holds a stack of newspaper over her head as shelter from the downpour._

_"This is useless," she laughs as she drops the paper from above her head and steps under the awning. She stands next to him and blows out a long puff of air and relishes in the fact that he's soaked too. _

_He smiles down at her wet her sticking to her face and gently brushes it away with his index finger. She looks up to him as his smile falters a small bit. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I really wasn't expecting our first date to be rained on."_

_She narrows her eyes at him and then smiles. "Date? I knew it," she states in small triumph. Her smile for him falters when his eyes become intense. _

_Clearing his throat he steps closer to her. His movement causes her back to straighten and heart to quicken. "I uh, didn't mean that. I just really wanted to hang out. But, the rain..." he lifts his shoulders and tilts head. _

_Looking into his bright, hazel eyes, she turns her head away and smirks at his nervousness. _

_Turning back toward him, she offers him an out. _

_"Hang out? We are like forty," she grins. "It's ok, Brady. Church is a good place to start," she jokes slightly choking on her own words. She knows her place within the church topic, but she tries to make him feel better. "And as for the rain, it's really ok, you can't really control Mother Nature," she jokes as she squeezes his upper arm. _

_He nods approvingly and as they start to walk up the short sidewalk the loud clang and boom of the overhead church bell startles them both and stops them in their tracks. She jumps at the first loud clang and instantly bumps into Brady. _

_He looks down at her pulling her closer. "Uh, guess we're late, huh?" he laughs as they stand and wait for the bell to stop ringing. On the tenth ring, he grips her tighter and focuses his bright eyes on her wet face. "Well, I've known for you what almost a year now. So, what do you call this?" he jokes with her. _

_She grins at him and shakes her head as his arm rests on her shoulder. She puts her hand on-top of his and he interlocks their fingers before guiding her into the beautifully lit auditorium of the church._

_The church service is beautifully spoken. The people are warm and welcoming when the service ends and as the church goers slowly disperse from the auditorium, she still sits quietly next to Brady who has his head bowed next to her. _

_She imagines he's saying last minute thanks and prayers and it feels familiar and she knows exactly why, but doesn't think too much of it. As he continues to bow, she looks up to the lavishly painted windows high on the walls of the auditorium. The intricately shaped windows and colored panes send speckles of colors across the many surfaces of the room. _

_The podium where the priest had spoken sits abandoned now on the small stage in front of the many pews. It's all set up very beautifully and religious beliefs or not, she feels safe here and immediately understands why people get married in places like these._

_She's not one to believe in fancy, religious oriented ceremonies and her own faith has been shaken in the past, but she has faith that there's something here for her. _

_She's willing to see it and it's about time. This is her life now and she welcomes it._

_She looks back at Brady and he sits up straight. He looks over to her and smiles as he arches his back. "You ready, Miss Olivia?" _

_"Always," she says quietly with a small smile. _

_"Alrighty," he starts slowly, then continues, "how about lunch and then I can take you home? That alright?" he asks cautiously. _

_"That's sounds great. I don't want to take up all your free time either. It is Sunday after all," she offers. _

_"Oh, no worries," he grins and stands up offering her his hand. She takes it and as he leads her outside she immediately greeted with the magnificent shade of blue in the sky as the noon sun appears from behind the array of gray clouds from the earlier rain. _

_He helps her into the front seat of his jeep and quickly jumps into the driver's side, pulling out of the church parking lot and into the open dust roads of South Dakota._

They had headed off into what had turned out to be the first of many Sundays together.

Her eyes slide open begrudgingly as she remembers a time when it was all so new. Her heart thumps wildly at the memory and she can't help but let go of a tear filled smile. As she unwraps her towel from around her now dry body, she sits naked on her bed and stares ahead at the memory.

Minutes pass by and finally she slowly stands up and walks over to her white dresser that contains her underclothes. She's not sure why, but she's feeling lace is a must and the thought of it under her clothes sends a surprising flutter of excitement.

The thought quickly floats through her mind as she feels the air surround her bare body, causing gooseflesh to form on her sensitized skin. As she inches closer to her dresser, she stops when she sees the item resting neatly atop her underclothes inside the open drawer.

She picks up the silver picture frame and holds it with both hands in front of her chest.

As she looks down at the faces peering at her from behind the glass, she can't help but smile. His arms wrap around her shoulders in the photo as she sits between his legs on her front porch. He has his signature cowboy hat on too and her hair is long and wavy and she's wearing one of the brightest smiles she thinks she has ever worn.

That picture was taken almost a year ago and she's been living here for only a few months and the thought that this is the only picture of him on the property is almost more than she can take.

It had been great timing for them to move in together. They'd been with each other essentially the past two years, ever since that day at church, and almost exactly a year after first moving to the open sea of green grass called South Dakota.

With that thought, she carefully sits the frame back down on-top of the dresser and reaches into her top drawer to gather her clothing in an immediate need to get dressed.

It's amazing how much can change in such a short period of time, she recounts to herself sadly and it's that thought that lingers with her as she pulls a light summer dress over her head and a lone tear slides down her rosy cheek.

tbc.


	3. Chapter 3: Silence

**Chapter 3: Silence**

_"Hi, Olivia. How are you feeling today?" _

_"Good, could be better," she replies as she sits on the sterile and cold exam table inside the quaint doctor's office._

_"Well, what seems to be the problem," the nurse asks in a sweet tone and Olivia smiles back. _

_"Um, I haven't been feeling well lately. It's been like this for the past week or so. I'm thinking maybe I'm starting to catch a summer cold and my ... Brady and I are moving from one place to another. I'm just ... exhausted all the time," she reveals. _

_"Well, let me ask you some questions and we'll see what's up, is that good?" _

_"Sure," Olivia fidgets on the table. _

_The woman asks Olivia several basic questions about her health history and then lifts her pen to turn to the next page of the packet of papers._

_"Ok, Olivia... When's the last time you had a menstrual cycle?"_

Olivia walks out of her bedroom after getting dressed in need of some fresh air and some food in her stomach. She makes her way downstairs and maneuvers through the kitchen searching for something to eat. Once she finds something, she pads along the hardwood floors toward the living room and plops down on the plush white sofa. She doesn't even bother turning on the television.

Nothing on television can hide the quietness around her anyways she realizes so she eats quickly and quietly, feeling an actual appetite for the first time in awhile. As she sits there, she catches something flashing on the entertainment center from the corner of her eye. She keeps her focus on it as she finishes up and sets her plate down on the glass coffee table.

Standing up, she brushes the crumbs off her dress before taking two quick strides toward the entertainment center searching out the mysterious glint. Before she can figure out what it is, her eyes immediately stop on two photos sitting on top of the television.

If she hadn't been feeling the effects of the last few months before, she is now.

The first photo is of Brady sitting at a picnic table last summer with his hat in his lap as he smiled for the camera. It had been a summer picnic for the town, with carnival rides and concession stands filled with so much food. She smiles at the picture and then rests it back in it's original place.

Looking back up, she notices an all too familiar photo staring back at her. One she's had for many, many years and refuses to put away.

She and Elliot stare back at her. Elliot has his one arm wrapped around her waist and she has her arm around his neck as they stand side by side posing for the camera at a precinct function several years ago. It's her favorite photo of them. Not that they have many together, but it brings back so many good memories for once. She picks up the frame and carries it back with her toward the couch.

She sits down and traces her finger over the clear glass covering the photo of them smiling. Her dark shoulder length brown hair, his bright white smile, remind her of what used to be. They look good together she concludes.

Smiling, she suddenly remembers why she went to the pictures in the first place. She gets up, setting the picture on the cushion beside her, and walks back to the shelf where she saw the distraction earlier. Searching the shelves, she looks down and her eyes widen.

Her old cell phone.

It continues to light up with the low battery signal and she swiftly picks it up and carries it back with her. She had forgotten about it over the last month. Having no interest in the outside world, a cell phone that only got reception on occasion hadn't seemed like a necessity for her even though her cop instincts honed in every once in awhile telling her she might need it one day.

But, a few weeks ago she had charged it and simultaneously forgotten she had it, essentially leaving it sitting somewhere. Now she knows.

It's the same cell phone she used back in Manhattan all that time ago. It still works. At least for emergencies since she still hasn't set up her land-line. She fingers the lightweight gadget in her hands remembering all the times she was awoken in the middle of the night by this very same phone. All the late night phone calls from vics, from her captain, from Elliot...

Her heart thunders with remembrance.

A light weight object that had carried so many heavy conversations.

She swallows harshly and looks down at the screen. The date is right but the time is slightly off by a few hours. She walks back to the shelf and grabs the charger, plugging it up next to the sofa and just stares at it.

It sits there as if waiting to be used. An overwhelming urge floats through her mind as she places the phone back into her fingers.

She carefully scrolls down and finds her old contacts, still the same as before. She scrolls down past old colleagues, a few old classmates, some random food joints and then... Elliot.

He used to be her number one contact and she's not sure when that changed. All she would have to do is hit the number one and he was on the other side in seconds. Now as she looks at his name in it's rightful place among the S's, she can't seem to remember exactly when she changed that.

It was probably after she moved, to rid herself of the memories, blocking the instant contact, but not exactly terminating the number all together.

Her finger lingers over the scroll button, keeping it in place over Elliot's cell phone number. It taunts her, prompting her finger to push down on the send button. She doesn't know what it will do or even if the number is still in service. She contemplates long moments whether or not to just push down on the button. But a lingering voice in the back of her mind reminds her of what was.

Is it worth hearing his voice?

Is it worth the pain of losing him again?

Is it worth the way his tone makes her feel back at home again?

Is it worth the flashbacks of her life back there?

Is it worth his concerned words?

She places the phone on her lap and urges herself to press down and eclipse the time that she has spent away from what will be on the other line by a simple phone call. It will all disappear and she will be right back where she was before she left. Talking to Elliot, hearing his voice, listening to him explain what's been going on with him and his kids provokes a need in her so detrimental she's not sure how she's made it all along without it.

She can't fool herself though because she wants to hear it, she wants to feel connected again but there's this lingering fear of regret.

Sighing, she sits the phone down next to the picture frame and gets up without a second thought. She needs to get out of this house. Clearing the threshold of her front door leading to the wrap around porch, she pulls the big door shut, and easily closes the screen door.

Calling home, or former home is at the front of her mind almost constantly. She'll never know if the service on her phone works today or any day because she can't call there. Not now, not later and maybe not for an even longer time. Too many things have been going on with her, she doesn't need any extra stress or problems.

She walks along the white wooden boards and sits down in her favorite spot. The swing sways backward as she sits down and a light breeze sifts across her skin. She watches the skyline loom before her in a shade of blue that takes on the fluffy white clouds that spread out like shredded cotton balls.

Home. What does that even mean anymore?

She sways with the swing while listening to the quiet. A car comes down the road and another plume of smoke floats through the air trailing behind the ragged old truck carrying a four wheeler. As it passes by, she wonders what the person behind the wheel would think if they knew she was afraid of her own ghosts, scared with her tail between her legs and hidden in the plains of a place she wants so desperately to call home.

All she can say is that it wasn't supposed to be this way.

_She smiles as he approaches the table where she sits waiting for him. "I'm glad you made it, where have you been all day?"_

_"Oh you'd be surprised," he grins as he sits his hat on the booth beside him. He gives her a large smile before clearing his throat. She raises an eyebrow before he speaks again. "Well, you know we're moving tomorrow." She nods. "So, I was looking into borrowing my friend Micheal's truck so I can do some errands tomorrow," he explains. _

_"Oh? What kind of errands?" She grins picking at the napkin sitting by her half empty plate. _

_"Well, first and foremost, some equipment I'm being given needs some type of transportation. So..." he trails off. _

_"Oh, I see. So are you going to tell me what kind of equipment it is or am I going to be surprised by it when I see it coming down the road?" _

_He laughs as the waiter brings out his plate of food she had pre-ordered for him and rests his interlocked fingers before his plate. "Oh it's going to be a surprise alright, but nothing too big," he jokes. "Actually it's just farming equipment," he offers slowly gauging her reaction. _

_"Ah," she smiles amused. "Farming? Well, whatever floats your boat doll." _

_"Oh it will." _

_"So, I've been meaning to talk to you about something and it also has something to do with moving into our new home tomorrow."_

_"Oh yea?" _

_"Yes," she breathes out with a small smile. _

_"Oh, this is exciting," he kids with her by rubbing his palms together. _

_Giving him a playful scowl, she runs her fingers across the smooth glass of her drink spreading the condensation along the surface. _

_"I've been informed of something and it may or may not involve how much moving I actually do tomorrow... so what I'm really trying to say is..." she trails off as his cell phone rings. _

_"Babe, I'm sorry," he apologizes with frustration in his own eyes. "It could be news on that truck. We're going to need it asap." _

_"Yea," she breathes out trying but failing miserably at indifference. Perfect timing, Michael, she chastizes him silently._

_As she watches him converse on the other end, he looks up at her and winks and she smiles back at him, getting nervous about telling him about her situation. Is this going to be a good thing? Or will it be something piled on top of all they've got going on now, the moving, the potential new hobby he's taken on of farming and whatever else comes their way._

_She takes a deep breath as he continues to talk. Why does she suddenly feel like the person she always found herself ditching for work back in New York? This isn't a date, just a dinner. Ok, it's a date, but an important one with the man she's been with the past two years. _

_He closes his phone and takes a few more bites of his meal. Before speaking, he takes the napkin from around the silverware and wipes his mouth gently. "Olivia, that was Micheal." No kidding."We got the truck. He's going to let me borrow it tomorrow. So that means I need to go get it tonight so I'll have it when I go pick up the equipment tomorrow. It's about an hour's drive so I need to get going. I wanna be back before you hit the hay." _

_"Oh," she simply replies. _

_He looks at her with slight guilt. "I'm sorry Olivia. We'll do this another time, you know when we aren't in the process of moving. I'll see you tonight, I promise," he says placing a soft kiss to her lips before cupping her cheek. "Love you." _

_"Love you," she counters with an understanding smile. She watches him exit the restaurant and takes one more drink of her water and then pays the check. _

_All of a sudden she really can't wait to see him when he gets home._

_And before she knows it, the early hours of morning roll in, and he's back home but she's already fallen asleep in her bed with the lamp on her night stand still on. He wakes her up briefly and tells her he's home and kisses her goodnight. She lays awake after he leaves the room and stares at the clock. It's 12:30 in the morning and he left at 7. She shifts in bed not wanting to look too much into it because tomorrow is the big day, in more ways than one._

She walks back inside her home after having sat on the porch for a good hour and paces in the living room. She's feeling tired and she hasn't done much today but she feels fidgety on top of that. Maybe she'll go into town later on just to get out. This day last year, she had spent almost all day in town preparing for that night.

Contemplating what she's going to do for the after noon, she sits on the couch again and picks up her earlier reminders of the past. She places them in her hands and lays down in the spot they previously occupied and rests her head on the soft cushion. Biting back a yawn, she tucks the picture and phone against her side and lets her mind drift to that night a year ago.

Brady Dalton, the handsome man she met the day she moved to South Dakota, who essentially captured her heart had been the subject of her planning one year ago. Brady Dalton, who took her on their first date to church a year later and then spent the Sunday afternoon disclosing details about himself that made her fall even more for him.

He worked as a horse trainer, giving lessons to all who wanted a ride. He even took her for a ride once, spending the afternoon on top of the majestic creature as they watched the naturalistic beauty of their surroundings and enchanting glow the impending sundown.

That night a year ago, he had told her he wanted to marry her one day. She believed him because feeling was mutual. She could see it happening, for the the first time in as long as she could remember. Not right then, but... one day.

One year ago, she sat on this day preparing for a night together.

She shifts on the couch, grabbing the blanket off the back and tossing it over her form with the picture and phone still by her side.

Maybe it's a sign that these things are what she has by her side one year later. Is this where she truly belongs? Is this what was supposed to happen? Was it some kind of test?

Are these objects symbols of what she should have kept within her grasp all along?

Maybe, maybe not. But one thing is for certain in her heart; she'll never regret the time she's spent here.

tbc.

* * *

**I should also reiterate that the pacing is a little slow to me. Some reviewers insisted it wasn't slow at all but I can't help but be a little self conscious still. Anyways, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think. The next few chapters pick up the pace much more. **:)


	4. Chapter 4: Memories

**Chapter 4: Memories**

_What happened in the basement?_

The words echo in her mind as she jerks awake from her unexpected nap. The air is still in her living room as the sun peers through the window. The early afternoon rays dance across the glass cover of her coffee table sending gold and white speckles across the ceiling.

The words bring so much back to her. So much emotion. Her response toward that subject had come to a halt the moment the question had been asked. She couldn't talk about it. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't do those things without immediately remembering the feeling of his hands on her hips, his erection grinding her behind, his lips on her neck, or his breath on her ear. It wasn't happening. She couldn't talk about it.

_Nothing... I'm fine, El._

The lie drifts through her mind as she stares into space remembering her partner. She misses him. He was the only constant back then, back in New York City. She wishes things could be different. But they are not and she can't bring herself to call him for fear of being reminded of the past and it just hurts too much.

It had taken three months for it to happen. It had taken three months for her to break completely. Her emotional armor had started to evaporate before her eyes and she just realized she couldn't take it anymore.

The hurt, the flashbacks, the defeat. Sealview changed her in so many ways. On top of that, mixed with her anguish over the almost botched undercover gig, it made her realize she just couldn't go on living the way she was.

The way she stayed loyal to her job, to the victims, to her partner was always on her mind. The whole experience made her realize living in the shadow of her partner's life wasn't ever going to get her anywhere and she was just putting more stress on herself by waiting for the inevitable.

Her initial plan hadn't included leaving her former colleagues in the dark as to where she was going. But in the end, she had only let Cragen know a week before she left that she was indeed leaving. She hadn't told him where she was going or for how long because she wasn't completely sure herself.

She silently thanks him now because he had never pushed her for further details. He had just nodded with that solemn expression he wears so often, and she knew the dip of his brows was more acute this time because of her sudden decision. But she had turned on her heels and walked away from his office that day knowing this was best for her.

Her last day of therapy had been the day before she took the flight out of Manhattan. She had attended the session hopeful that the times she had went previously would hold her over while she was away.

An old college girlfriend had spoken to her about a nice town her sister used to live in. That sister just happened to be renting a home there if Olivia wanted to get away for awhile. She had immediately taken up the offer and was on a flight to South Dakota before she knew what hit her.

The decision had been impulsive but much needed. It had been made and then she had left without a word to her coworkers. She had felt guilty initially but realized that if she had to say goodbye she wouldn't have been able to leave the place she loved even though it housed the hell she was faced with everyday.

She hated not telling Elliot. She had done this to him two times before and she felt like shit months and months after leaving. He must've realized she was gone for good this time once it approached the one year marker of her leave. The only thing he had to work with was a vague sentiment from their captain saying she had just simply left and that she was okay. _Don't worry._ That's what she had asked Don to say at least.

It had been hard to make that last ditch effort at finding herself again while leaving everything she'd ever known behind.

Snapping out of her reverie, she lifts her arms up and stretches while stifling a mid afternoon yawn. She's been so tired of late.

She hadn't wanted to fall asleep again, especially since she was planning to go and buy dinner supplies at the grocery store. She groans inwardly at the thought.

Sleep seems to creep upon her more and more these days. It come easy yea but it had been so sparce before and now it comes in torrents and when she least expects it. She assumes it comes with the new territory, even years later.

Even with the fatigue, she works through it, mostly around the house these days, and it keeps her mind busy for the most part. Getting a job has crossed her mind quite a few times and it just hasn't panned out quite yet.

She has money that her mother left her after she died but what Olivia really takes to heart is working with other people and helping people. Not holding onto money left to her as an unmentioned grievance check her mother never really owned up to. So yea, a job might just keep her sane.

She glances over at the clock on her entertainment center and it reads 3 p.m. If she can get going now, she'll be able to make it back in time so she can cook herself a decent meal at a decent time and to celebrate... alone.

And quickly something dawns on her again as she tries not to feel sorry for her own misfortunes. Because it was someone else who made her forget all of them for just a little while.

It's Brady's forty-third birthday and she takes a deep breath trying to drudge up what he'd say to her right now. When nothing comes, she takes a deep breath and rubs her tired eyes.

It's the first time she's been excited about cooking herself a dinner when she might as well just call it any other night. It's saddening yet she keeps the anticipation alive because that's what Brady would have wanted.

But four months ago, everything changed.

_"Ms. Benson?"_

_"Yes," she offers as she slowly walks down the stairs nearing the locked screen door. She had spent the entire day organizing the master bedroom upstairs so she and Brady would have a bed to sleep in that night that she doesn't immediately pick up on who's speaking from the front porch._

_"Ms. Benson," the surely older man in uniform repeats. _

_"I'm coming," she calls as she grips tightly onto the rag in her hands. "Hi, can I help you?"_

_"You're Olivia Benson, correct," the man who is wearing without a doubt a sheriff's uniform asks. _

_Immediately, her pulse quickens at his presence because she had done her old job long enough to know what police officers of any sort were meant to do. To serve and protect. And in some cases, serve life altering news, good or bad._

_"Yea, you would be correct. Is there anything I can help you with?" she asks in a concerned tone which verges on more of a trembling one as worry starts to surge through her veins. _

_"Do you have somewhere where we could sit?"_

_Her heart skips a beat and suddenly her hands are shaking as she unlatches the lock on the screen door, letting him silently step inside the small foyer._

_Surely this can't be good. What's happened? Is is Brady? Oh god. She takes a deep breath, moving back to allow the man to enter the fairly empty living room, her new white sofa the only piece of furniture in the vicinity. _

_She swallows thickly and sits at the same time as the sheriff._

_"What's going on?" she asks in a harsh breath._

_Before the older man speaks, he pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and stares down at it for a few seconds seemingly contemplating his choice of words. _

_"Ms., would you know of a Mr. Dalton?"_

_"Uh, Brady? Dalton?" she hesitates before looking to him with watery eyes. _

_"Uh yes. You know him then?"_

_"Yes, he's my... my fiance," she replies thickly. _

_"Ms. Benson," he starts slowly, his focus on his knees, "we found this address on him." Her lip quivers before he gets any further. Found it on him? As the sheriff adjusts his position on the couch, he raises his gaze to her face and continues. "Look, I'm sorry to have to inform you of this, but there was an accident. Mr. Dalton was in a car wreck. Looks like a drunk driver hit him head on from an oncoming lane," he looks down solemnly. "Uh, two fatalities. I'm sorry," he whispers. _

_Sitting on the couch next to the county sheriff, Olivia's breathing stills before becoming labored pants as she stares into nowhere. Her throat starts to constrict from the inevitable onslaught of sobs forming in her throat. "No survivors?" she whispers back. He shakes his head no. "How did you get this address then? We just moved in today. Maybe you have the wrong person?" _

_She knows she's making little sense but the thought gives her false hope and she knows it._

_"We found this address in his wallet on a slip of paper when we needed identification. Again. I'm sorry Ms. Benson. If there's anything I can do...," he trails off. _

_Shaking her head as a tear trails down her cheek, she rubs her temple before speaking._

_"No, no thank you," she quivers and the sheriff puts a hand on her shoulder. "I'm just going to go back upstairs to unpack. Thank you for informing me." _

_He doesn't respond but nods sadly as she tries not to fall apart in front of him. He nods again and simply walks to the front door and lets himself out but not before looking over his shoulder at her broken heart lying beat-less on the couch next her. _

_She walks up the stairs in a trance, slowly processing the words she just heard. "There was an accident. No survivors. Brady Dalton." Her bottom lip trembles as she makes it to the bedroom she and Brady were to share. He won't even get to see what she did with the room. The closet is full of his clothes on the left and hers are hanging to the right. The bed sits in the middle of the room and the nightstand sits on the left side where he usually sleeps. _

_She places one knee down on the bed and collapses on top of the mattress and silently lets the tears drain from her soul. He's gone._

_As her mother's words ring in her ears about never being good enough and her ability to be happy being shattered by her genes, one thing tears at her heart more than anything. Brady loved her and it may have never been what her mother had thought possible, it was still a love that kept Olivia going. _

_And she didn't even get to reveal the true extent of it to him._

She remembers laying in bed, on top of the covers, for hours after the sheriff had left. The last time she had talked to Brady had been the night before when he had kissed her goodnight once he had returned with his friend's truck.

That next day he had been going back and forth from town to town to gather that _goddamn_ farming equipment. He had wanted to be made a self proclaimed farmer.

Now she wishes she had said more to him. Who would have ever thought that their last kiss would be on a mid April night while she was half awake.

She hadn't expected him to be gone that morning before she woke up but he had left her a note saying he'd be back soon. But not soon enough.

It was around 5 p.m. when the sheriff had left and all the nervous tension she had been feeling in her stomach earlier that day had finally made sense.

Brady had been gone all day and would be gone before he had a chance to sleep one night in their new house.

She stands up from the couch and moves her feet toward the kitchen to grab her purse off of her chair. With the sudden movement and onslaught of memories that feel all too fresh in her mind, a wave a nausea floods over her before she has time to comprehend what's going on.

She stops in her tracks as the feeling persists and finally she knows what's coming. She rushes to the sink and her insides release, her stomach clearing the contents from within.

She stands up straight and wipes the sheen of saliva from the corner of her mouth before rinsing the sink out with hot water.

_Why did this have to happen?_ She still can't believe how fast things change with a blink of an eye.

It was like one day her and Brady were planning where he wanted to go out to eat for his birthday and then the next she's preparing herself one that was meant for him.

She picks up her purse again and finds her keys as she steps out onto the beautiful porch taking in some fresh air she can't seem to get enough of these days.

And as she heads out into the early afternoon with intent, a lone thought remains on her mind.

_I don't know what you would've wished for this year, but knowing you, you would've without a doubt loved my present anyways. Happy Birthday, Brady._

tbc.


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations

**A/N: I totally forgot this was a super long chapter so it took me slightly longer to go back and edit it. I remember this was such a treat to write since I was finally getting a fantasy scenario onto paper. Anyways, please, please, please drop me a word if you're still reading this. I'm kind of wanting to get a feel of who's all reading. Also, thanks so much for the awesome reviews so far and enjoy. :)**

**P.S. I apologize a head of time for any mistakes. It's 1 a.m. and my eyes are playing tricks on me. ;)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Revelations**

She prances around the kitchen with each of the stove burners full of life, exchanging ingredients into pots and pans on top of the counter. She may be the only one eating, but she makes enough to fill a small family and she doesn't mind the leftovers. Her past proves that.

She's making lasagna, and the noodles boil and the pasta sauce sits off to the side as she slides the clear glass dish with the shredded cheese to the side.

She smiles as she realizes this is one of her first home-cooked meals since it all happened a few months ago.

Her homemade lasagna had always been a favorite. She had never had much time to cook before she had moved but when she did, everything had been homemade.

She's cooking and it still baffles her. The ease with which she uses the kitchen these days.

Brady had cooked with her numerous times and he's the one behind this particular recipe. Florentine Lasagna. She'd never been one for spicy food but Brady had found alternatives and that's how she cooks it now.

As she stirs the hamburger which had been a replacement for the spicy sausage, she smiles at the recollection of Brady standing behind her in the kitchen that first night they had dinner together in her old kitchen just before they'd planned to move in together.

He had taken the spatula from her hand and spread the hamburger bits around the sizzling pan and she'd watched in fascination to how acclimated to the kitchen he was.

He had said, "If you stir the meat just right you can't even tell it's any different from the original recipe. My mama used to substitute regular hamburger to dilute the spice for me and my brother but we never realized it," he had said, laughing softly.

She had laughed at him knowing he had only found an excuse to put his arms around her while she cooked but she hadn't minded.

She smiles as she remembers standing at the stove and stirring the meat together on a night so similar to her present one.

_Laughing along with her, he lets go of the spatula and wraps his arms around her torso and nuzzles her neck with his nose. The warmth of his breath on her skin causes her head to tilt to the side while her hand continues to move the meat around the pan._

_As the steam rises from the simmering hamburger, the added heat from his kisses is almost too much for her to take. She stops her actions and sets the spatula down, turning in his arms in search of his lips. _

She breaks away from her daydream and turns the burner down low and sets the spatula on the counter. Brady had taught her to relish in even the smallest aspects of life such as cooking all the way to the bigger ones such as learning how to just breathe again.

Remembering a time when he did just that, she grabs the small bag of tomatoes and starts dicing them for her sauce as she continues to remember the last time they cooked together.

_He kisses her cheek and slowly makes his way to her lips, gently lifting her chin so her eyes meet his._

_The faint sounds of the crickets from outside surround them as their constant symphonies carry into the warm kitchen from the open screen door. The timer on the stove ticks by slowly and waiting for the food to get done is made all better with his touch as they embrace and move in a tepid dance to a slow melody created by his soft humming._

_"Olivia, you're a wonderful cook. Can't wait to try out your version of my mama's recipe," he whispers in her ear. "I'm sure she'd be pleased with the result," he winks as she pulls away from him to open the oven door just as the timer goes off._

_"Thank you, Brady," she laughs. "I just wish I could have made it for her myself."_

_"Don't worry, babe. Just watching you tonight made me so happy. I can't imagine how she'd feel," he smiles as he walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her lower stomach. _

_She smiles as she rests the back of her head against his chest. "She raised a good boy," she retorts softly. She grips his forearms and turns her head towards him with a hint of laughter in her tone, "Even with his inability to tell hamburger from sausage," she whispers over her shoulder as he leans in and runs his lips over hers with a feather soft touch. _

_She leans in more and increases the pressure, wrapping her left arm around his neck. Slowly, he grips her hip and turns her around to face him as she stands on her tippy toes to kiss him full on. Her tongue runs across his bottom lip and he smiles against her kiss. _

_"You are so beautiful, Olivia," he whispers taking her by the hand and leading her toward the bedroom. _

_"Brady," she warns. "Come on, dinner's almost done, can't this wait?" she laughs as she follows him. _

_Before opening her bedroom door, he stops and cups her cheeks in his palms as he stares down into her dark eyes. "Nope," he smirks and pulls her close to his body, his arms wrapped completely around her torso._

_The warmth of his hands on her body causes heat to course through her. She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers into his ear breathily, "Brady the food's going to burn."_

_ "Then we can order in," he drawls with desire in his eyes. _

_Before she can respond, he lifts her up and her legs automatically wrap around his waist as he pushes open the door to the master bedroom. _

_"Wh-what do you want to order," she tries to ask casually, but her voice is full of arousal as he gently lays her across the bed. _

_He reaches down and brings her chin up and leans down capturing her lips into his again,"Well if we make it quick, we might be able to salvage that delicious lasagna in there simmering."_

_"But I don't want quick," she breathes out in realization as his fingers skim the outside of her thighs. His touch causes a new heat to pool between her thighs and instantly, eating becomes the last thing on her mind._

_"Guess it's Chinese then," he grins as he dips down and latches his lips onto the sensitive skin at her throat. _

_A deep moan escapes her lips as his mouth moves down her neck and onto her chest. "Well in that case, make love to me," she whimpers as his mouth latches onto her newly exposed nipple. Her head rolls back and the heated moisture of his mouth is more than she can think about at the moment. _

_She moves her hands down his body and grips his behind, pressing his jean covered erection against her soft spot. _

_Before she gets far with her new found urgency, she feels him let go of her skin long enough for him to pull the covers on top of them. _

_In moments their clothes are discarded next to her bed and the smell of overcooked lasagna begins to waft through her bedroom door. Her muffled cries of pleasure drift from beneath the sheets and into the still house as he groans against her neck. _

_"I love you so much, Olivia. Chinese..." he whispers into her ear as he gently sways his hips back and forth to prove his point._

_The corner of her mouth lifts in contentment just before she comes._

A single tear rolls down her cheek and then a second quickly races the first to see which one makes it to her plush lips first.

The soft rock music playing in the background of her kitchen, which is mostly static, permeates the still air. She reaches up to the refrigerator where the small transistor radio sits and presses the off button as she wipes away the stray tears with the other hand.

With the hamburger done cooking, she retrieves the bowl with the tomato sauce she had made earlier and turns around just as a light breeze comes through the screen door from the evening air rolling in.

With the hissing of cooking meat and the faint static of the radio gone, she realizes with an eerie sense of calm just how quiet it truly is out here.

As she goes to take the sauce and noodles to the table, her eyes catch something in the hazy light still seeping in from the screen door. And as she lifts her eyes out of instinct to see what it is, her heart immediately drops to her stomach.

Her eyes widen and her breaths halt all at the same time as she zeroes in on the subject of her distraction.

Soon the shock takes a hold and the glass bowl crashes to the ground splattering the dark red moisture and shards of clear glass across the linoleum floor.

As the echo of the crash filters around her, the screen door screams on its hinges as it's jerked opened from the outside. With more air cascading in through the open door, the figure in the doorway freezes in place, eyes focused on the mess on the floor.

Her heart speeds up and a lump forms in her throat as the dark silhouette stands in her door frame. Just by the build she can tell it's a man but for some reason she isn't terrified like she should be with a strange person standing there.

The seclusion of living in the middle of nowhere has certainly played a roll in past weariness involved with people she doesn't know out here. But as she stands there, it feels like minutes have ticked by when in reality it's only been a few seconds and that's when she scans her eyes over the man's body.

His head is down cast and his hands are stuffed into his pockets of some form fitting jeans. His shirt is a dark brown, almost burgundy at the top and the material stretches over his muscles in a way that makes the hair stand on the back of her neck.

He shifts on his feet and then leans his shoulder against the right side of the frame. As he does so, his face sifts through the golden-orange rays left in the sky and it's then she really sees him.

She freezes in place with her mouth agape and... she's confused. She's shocked and so at a loss for words that she's making him uncomfortable she realizes as he rubs the back of his head nervously.

She's so immersed in the sight off him that she doesn't know what to think. As the pile of broken glass and pasta sauce remain on the floor, the silence in the room becomes deafening as it becomes a barrier between their frozen frames.

She blinks her eyes repeatedly trying to rid herself of this hallucination but he remains as she trains her eyes back on him again. Sensing her uneasiness she concludes, he steps back, leaning outside of the door frame and more into the remaining sunlight on her small back porch.

With a harsh gulp, she follows his motions with her eyes and as the soft yellow glow pours against the taught skin of his face and strong neck, it's not a surprise anymore.

Miles and miles away from where he's supposed to be, here he stands. After days and days of separation and after years and months of no ties whatsoever, she should have known this day would come.

She takes a deep breath and throws the small dish towel over her left shoulder and rubs her temples wearily with her thumb and middle finger.

"Wh-" she chokes, still unable to formulate coherent thoughts to his presence.

"You going to invite me in?" His Brooklyn accent wafts to her ears in a familiar cadence she thought she'd never hear again.

And there he is with all his brooding intensity and all she can do is nod in response as she makes her way towards him.

"Christ, Elliot," she breathes heavily. "You scared the shit out of me." Shaking her head in amazement, she wraps her arms around herself before continuing. "What are you doing here? How did... how you find me?" she stutters.

Clearing his own throat, he steps through the door frame and looks down at his toes. Rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, he replies halfheartedly, "Nice to see you too, Liv."

Sighing, she bites her lower lips and looks up with him with a forlorn expression she's never not been accustomed to giving him. It's the same expression she remembers giving him the day she walked in on him changing his dress shirt after he beat the shit out of his temporary partner, Blaine.

Except now his presence is overwhelming. It's been so long but he still looks the same. He has the same build, same face, maybe a little more haggard but still cut and handsome and she feels her throat begin to close up at how she let so many days go by without seeing any of that.

His upper torso is built from solid muscle and his biceps protrude from beneath the soft material of his cotton shirt. Even his jeans still fit him well, hugging all the right places.

She takes a deep breath and realizes the moisture pooling around her eyes and that she's been staring at him like a deer in headlights.

"I'm sorry, El. Would you like to come in?" she asks nervously as she glances down at the mess on the floor.

He shifts again on his feet and looks down at the mess as well. "Only, if you want me to," he replies timidly, the muscle in neck flexing as he swallows nervously.

"Come in. Please."

He pushes himself off of the frame and walks into the warm kitchen while simultaneously letting the screen door slam shut behind him causing them to both jump in surprise.

"Sorry."

"It's fine," she waves him off, once again glancing down at the glass mess on the floor. Thinking of it as a way to distract them from the impending awkward tension, she starts to bend down to clean it up.

"Wait, let me help. That's my fault," he offers as he motions for her towel. He then bends down on his haunches and carefully sops up the broken glass and sauce. "Trash?"

"By the back door," she nods toward the trash can sitting against the wall.

After dispatching the contents into the waste bin, he shakes the towel out and bends back down to collect more of the mess on the floor and she finds herself watching him intently as she leans against the counter.

It's a strange sense of euphoria that invades her veins at the familiarity of him bending over the red mess as if it's blood from a crime scene. It takes her breath away again and it hits her again that he's here. He consumes her thoughts even while he's only mere feet away and it's his very voice that breaks her out of her reverie.

"Making dinner, huh?" he asks as he balls up the towel and glances down at the faint orange tint still staining the shiny surface of the floor.

She takes the towel from him and nods her head. Silence overtakes them again and she flinches internally because she doesn't want it to be this way. She's so unbelievably happy to see him and she knows she needs to say something and fast but words continue to fail her.

As the silence drones on, the tension becomes so thick her head starts to pound and when it doesn't look like he's going to say anything first, she finally finds her voice.

"You want to sit?" she asks motioning towards the kitchen chairs.

"Nah, I'm good," he answers quickly.

"So, what are you doing here?" she asks again before she realizes it and she cringes at the harshness in her voice. "I mean, I know, but... How did you find me?"

He leans his head down briefly, tucking a hand behind his head before looking her in the eyes, blue on brown.

"I just...," he begins, his accent stronger than before. "I had this dread ya know. I waited forever for you to call or to come back and it never happened."

Sighing with an undeniable regret lingering over her chest, she tentatively touches his forearm before lowering it back to her side.

"El, that's not what I wanted to happen. You have to know that, I just... things were different and I didn't know what to do...," she trails off as he lifts his reddened eyes back to her face.

"I just had to see you, ok?" he asks in a gentle whisper, his brow furrowed. She sucks in her bottom lip realizing how much it took for him to admit what he just he did.

There were so many times when she had just wished she could see him for just a moment and realizing at the same time that she missed him more than she probably should for all those months after she moved to South Dakota.

Seeing the clear emotion in his eyes, she can gather that it wasn't that different for him either and she doesn't know what to do with that piece of information and against her will her eyes start to pool once again.

Her mouth opens in response but no words form and she just nods, barely noticeable.

So he continues.

"And, I looked for you online. Elizabeth's into that family tree junk and one day I asked her if she knew how to search for people and that's how I found you eventually," he replies never taking his gaze from off the tops of his shoes.

She smiles sadly, the corner of her mouth twitching at the thought of his kids showing him how to search for her. She shakes her head and wipes at her mouth with her hand in disbelief. " I can't believe you had your daughter stalk me over the internet," she teases him in a whisper.

Honestly, why was he looking for her, she wonders. What could he possibly want to know about her or want from her anymore? He had a life to live. A family. A job. So why was he standing thousands of miles away from all of that in her kitchen?

A quick wave of hurt floats across his eyes and she quickly realizes she must have said some of that out loud. He swallows hard and lifts his focus directly at her. Locking eyes. "Because, Liv," he stammers.

The intensity of his words causes her eyes to drop and she immediately feels him move closer. His body heat radiates off him in waves as the intensity of his words bore into her before he even speaks them.

"Because, Liv, you were my partner." Her eyes slip closed as he moves to stand directly in front of her. "You can't just go off for a few years without telling anyone where you're going. I was worried. Don wouldn't tell me shit!" he grits out with an emotion she hasn't seen in him since she watched from outside the interrogation room while he took down Gordon Rickett.

And at the moment, she can't help but feel like she's in the interrogation room, her alibi full of holes and life so full of secrets, she'd never get out of there.

"He didn't know," she states coolly, focusing back on the floor.

Biting his lower lip, he shakes his head slowly as he steps closer to her. Tilting his head to try and look her in the eyes, his pleads with her. "Why, what happened Liv? Why didn't you say something? I thought something happened to you... why didn't you tell me?"

"Same reason we've never been able to tell each other things, Elliot," she shoots back as she moves around him and paces in front of the doorway leading into her living room.

"That's the problem, Liv. We're so fucked up that we don't see what's in front of us. I didn't ask then, but I'm asking you know, just tell me you're okay," he pleads and as his voice cracks, her tears begin to fall in silent torrents down her face and she doesn't even bother to wipe them away.

He needs to hear this, all of it.

"Elliot, I just had to get away. It wasn't you, it wasn't the guys, it wasn't something you or I could control. You had other problems to tend to. You had a life. A family to take care of and I had my reasons. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It's been three goddamn years!" he raises his voice, throwing his hands up in frustration. "It's been three years since I've heard from you. A lot can change in that time, Olivia."

"I know, " she replies softly, turning her head away from him trying to hold back the moisture wreaking havoc on her eyes. She doesn't want him to see her like this but she can't control it and it's pissing her off and with that she swipes at the tears angrily as she glances back up at him, gauging his reaction.

She watches him take a deep breath and then step back a few steps.

"It's been three years," he starts again more calmly, his voice devoid of the emotion from only moments ago.

"I thought I was your friend, your best friend, Olivia. I thought you would have let me know something," he motions around at the small dining room they've made their way into. Sighing dejectedly, Elliot swipes a thick hand down his face and nods in acceptance. "If you don't want me here... I can catch my flight back to New York tonight... It was nice seeing ya."

Nodding his head once more, seemingly accepting that he's right and she doesn't want him there, he starts to turn around to leave.

"Wait, Elliot! Don't do that," she pleads. "Don't.. be like that. You know as well as I do, that that is not the case. Just listen to me for a second you stubborn asshole!"

He stops in his tracks and turns around with his hands stuffed back in his pockets. His eyes are haunted and she can't imagine what he's been thinking all these years. What his dreams have consisted of and what things he's been conjuring up in his mind. And when he speaks her heart breaks a little.

"I'm sorry."

"No, just, just wait, let me explain," she nods silently accepting that he's not going to move from his spot. Moving closer to him, she runs her fingers through her wavy strands of hair searching for something they can both grasp onto in this moment.

"There's a reason for all of this. Lets just... sit down for a little while okay?" With his answering nod she smiles briefly and thens runs her palm over the back of her hair. "Um, just let me turn everything off in the kitchen real quick first."

As she walks back into the kitchen, she turns off the oven completely and then switches the light off as she comes back through the doorway. So much for a quiet dinner, but then again there is Elliot studying the belongings in her living room as makes his way to her sofa.

She notices how he stares at the pillow and blanket that are haphazardly piled to one side of the cushions and knows what he must be thinking. Why is she sleeping on the couch?

Moments later after she gathers herself, she joins him and decides to sit opposite him.

Thumbing a loose strand of thread dangling from her throw, the silence once again returns between them and the tension is all too familiar.

Rubbing a hand down her cheek, she glances toward Elliot who's leaning back against the sofa, one arm sprawled across the back and once again she is reminded of how much she had missed that, him.

Her voice is just a soft whisper when she begins and it floats easily between them in the quiet room.

"I had to get away, Elliot," she starts. "That's all there was to it. I couldn't stay back there anymore..." she pleads with a quiver in her voice and she begs herself not to start crying again. "If I could, I would have told you. But I wasn't even sure of myself then. And I'm so sorry," she trails in a whisper.

She watches him try to comprehend her but he just barely shakes his head and then leans his elbows on his knees.

"You needed to get away? Why? Were you... are you in trouble?" he asks, concern lacing his voice. His eye brows furrow, and the lines in his forehead triple as his crystal blue eyes stare at her, pleading for something she doesn't know how to explain.

"No. No. I'm not in trouble," she swallows thickly. "Elliot. I don't know how to explain it. It was just something I had to do. After Sealview... I just... I knew I had to get away. I wasn't me," she falters as a tear runs down her cheek.

Immediately, Elliot moves himself to a kneeling position in front of her and she gasps lightly when she opens her eyes to see the worry lines so ingrained in his skin it makes her want to run her finger tips down each one in hopes that maybe they aren't all because of her.

He lightly grasps her wrist silently prodding her to look at him. The close proximity and the way he touches makes her eyes droop low and harder for her to look him in the eyes.

"I'm still missing something, Liv. And it's killing me. Lord knows why, but it's killing me. What happened?" he asks defeated as a long breath escapes his throat. He waits for a few seconds for her response but the feel of his hand on her skin still lingers and she doesn't want to think about that musty basement right now.

She feels him move from his kneeling position and when the warmth of his hand leaves hers, her eyes open and there he sits on the coffee table in front of her, his head resting in his left palm. "Olivia... what went on in there? Is that the reason you left?" Silence. "Olivia?" he prods again raising his voice in concern.

Her head slowly turns toward the enormous window, her mind wishing she were outside now, heading toward the stream so it can calm her; the only rippling would be the small waves and not her insides.

"El, have you ever just done something that felt right? That just made sense at the time? Because that's what I did. I just knew getting away was right for me and it was my decision and you just have to understand that it's something I had to do. It was for my life. I needed it. I wasn't getting anything from the way I was living and after I got out of there, it just proved it. Just please," she pleads in a harsh whisper as she continues to gaze out the window.

Elliot closes his eyes tightly and then stands up to walk toward the window she's focused on. Moments pass by of complete silence and she thinks he's going to drop it until he sighs and whispers something she never expected from him.

"Did he rape you?"

Her heart drops to her stomach from the sound of the word. It's such a cruel and slicing word. Even to her, someone who had heard it almost on a regular basis.

She doesn't know how to respond and as she glances at him she sees that he's still staring out the same window with his hands in his pockets, back stiff and seemingly afraid of what her face will say and what her words will fail to tell.

She wasn't raped, she was sexually assaulted. Hell, it doesn't even sound any better to herself so she dreads trying to explain it to him.

She stands up and walks toward him, giving him some space while she tries to conjure up a response that he'll accept. There was a reason she could never tell him what happened in the first place.

She feels the unbridled anger of the situation rolling off his body already and she knows he blames himself for not being there, for not fighting it enough so she couldn't go in the first place.

She doesn't want to tell him anything about what happened in that basement. It's humiliating and the thought of telling him makes her feel weak. She knows Harris should have never had the chance to get as far as he had and she hates the look she knows will be on Elliot's face when he realizes that too.

It's been three years though and she figures it's something she'll have to live with because he's never going to let her go without an answer.

"There was a riot," she starts, trying to keep calm. She looks up and he remains ramrod straight but he's completely still so she takes that as a cue to keep going. "Harris came out and cuffed me. Parker was right there and I knew he had a hard on for me but I never saw it coming with Harris," she stops, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He said he was taking me down to c-block but he ended up taking me down to the basement and he...," she trails off as a lump forms in her throat.

Before she can continue, Elliot turns around and wraps his arms around her tightly and it surprises her but she immediately wraps her arms around his back and holds on as he shakes against her.

He seethes with anger as he whispers into her ear, "I will kill that son of a bitch. I will rip his fucking head off of his fucking shoulders. Olivia, I will kill him! He had no right to touch you..."

She cuts him off and pulls back slightly.

"Elliot, you have to settle down. Please, let me finish."

"What's there to finish? You never should have went in there with no protection; Cragen shouldn't have let you and I should have been there," he trails off.

His face flushes red with anger and his breaths come out in short pants and she assumes it's because he's turning over in his mind all the scenarios of what he thinks really happened. As he shakes his head, a strangled noise escapes his throat.

Startled by this, she swallows hard knowing from the beginning he would blame himself. She wasn't even raped and yet he blames himself as if it was her death on his hands.

"Elliot, you weren't my keeper. So stop blaming yourself," she pleads, poking her finger into his chest. "I handled myself the best way I could and I'm still here." When he doesn't say anything, she grasps his cheek and turns his face towards hers before continuing. "Elliot, he never raped me!"

Lifting his head, his worried eyes meet hers and for a split second, a frightening urge to press her lips to his culminates in her stomach but she instantly pushes it away, blaming it on the stress of the situation.

She clears her throat and gently offers him hopefully a reprieve from the past. "Yes, he did sexually assault me. There's nothing I can do about it now but try and move on. But, but, he didn't rape me Elliot...he didn't get that far. Fin was there. He pulled him away. That's it. You have to believe that and move on from it yourself."

The words start to turn over in his head, and she realizes they've sunk in when he nods.

"But what the hell is the difference? That cock sucker did something to you to make you run."

"It wasn't all him. I had to. I didn't want to leave... I didn't know what to do," she says as her voice quivers.

"I missed you," he states bluntly.

Taken aback by his sudden change of subject, she lets his words linger in the air as she gently runs her hand up and down his bicep, having never let go of their embrace from earlier.

"So, how did you manage to get time off to fly eight hours away?"

A trace of a smile forms on his lips for the first time and in an instant, he pulls himself together before speaking. "I had been looking for you. I was taking some time during work, after work and then finally one day, I went by your old apartment and asked your old landlord if you had a forwarding address. I was kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner but then I couldn't find one... so I started searching your name in different states to see what came up. I went through almost all fifty when I came across a newspaper clipping. New home-buyer, huh?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at the stylish home surrounding him.

Blushing at the way he found her, she looks to him with an exasperated sigh. She should have known he would do something like this.

"Yea," she whispers, a small smirk playing at the edge of her mouth. "You are one sly guy, Elliot. Gotta give it to ya."

He lets out a small chuckle before looking at the lavish decor around him.

"So, how long have you lived here, I mean in South Dakota?"

"Well, the whole three years I've been gone from New York City. I came straight here. This house though... I haven't been here long at all," she admits pursing her lips closed.

"It's nice," he breathes out as he glances up the staircase.

"Thank you," she softly whispers.

When he runs a hand through his short hair, she immediately looks at him, their eyes locking once again.

"I uh, I'm on a three week sabbatical. Once I found out everything, I had to come and plus I had some personal stuff that I wanted to sort out too. Believe me I wasn't sure I'd find you this fast. I was worried you would have moved already by the time I got here," he admits dryly.

When she looks off to the side to take in everything that's he's said, she watches from the corner of her eye as a forlorn expression washes over his face. "But if I'm intruding, I can leave, it's not a problem. I just wanted to see for myself you were ok. That you still existed," he softly laughs.

"No, El," she replies immediately. "You don't have to leave. You just got here," she whispers with tears in her eyes.

"I just don't want to barge into your life. Especially if you didn't want anything to do with your old one. You know since I was part of that."

Licking her lips, she grasps his upper arm before moving around him toward the staircase. "I won't lie to you, Elliot. I never thought I'd see you here and now that you are I still can't even wrap my mind around it. But you're not intruding, I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Well, we were partners for way too long for me to just forget about you. Those few months you were in Oregon were horrible, but this, this took the cake," he shrugs.

Worrying her lip, she looks down at her hands in search of words to describe how his honesty makes her feel. She feels like the rug has been pulled from beneath her but in reality, he shouldn't surprise her anymore. Not really. He had always been that way in the beginning. Whenever she thought she knew everything about him, he'd surprise her and reveal a little bit more of himself.

That's why they had worked so well together. They were always able to read each other, know when the other needed space and when they were ready to talk, they did. But when things got complicated in their seventh year, that's when their dynamic had changed.

As her thoughts come back to the conversation in her foyer, she kicks her foot against the carpet shyly before glancing toward him again.

"You know, there's plenty of room here. You don't have to stay at a hotel or anything. I'd more than love for you stay here.

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes, of course. Come on I'll show you upstairs," she offers nodding her head up the staircase.

As he moves to follow her up the stairs, he can't help but notice her body for the first time. Not that it's intentional, it's just that it's been three years and he's a man.

And as he assesses those facts, he notices how her fuller hips sway as she walks up the steps. His eyes then travel to her exposed skin and it's also much tanner and smoother in appearance. Her hair takes on the darker roots he remembers her having from the their first year together and her arms still retain that shapely tone to them. She's still very much the Olivia he's always known, maybe even better he smiles to himself as he takes a step up.

Before he makes it up another, she stops and turns half way. "You like the sun shining in in the morning or the shady side because I have both options," she smiles from the stairs above him.

He looks up the stairs and then back to her and shrugs, "Doesn't matter to me. You lead the way," he says. She nods with a smile as she waits for him to take a few more steps up to join her.

When she turns around to move up the rest of the steps, he doesn't notice at first, but as she turns her whole body to take the first step ahead of him, his eyes bulge from the sight of her.

Her breasts are also much fuller than he remembers. Her blue shirt fits snugly across them and also across her stomach. He can't take his eyes off the roundness of it as she continues up the flight of steps, a good five feet ahead of him.

Then it hits him and he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him yet again.

Olivia's pregnant.

His body is frozen but his mind swirls in a continuous loop of possibilities and none of them are comforting. He's knocked out of his daydream by her husky voice as she stands at the top of the landing.

"Coming, or you just going to stand there and enjoy the view?" she jokes with him, obviously oblivious to the confusion scrambling his brain in that moment.

Taking another glance at her from below, there is no doubt.

She's pregnant. But how? With who? Who has she been with this whole time? A whole other set of questions arise and a sense of dread forms in the pit of his stomach as he slowly inches his way up the stairs.

tbc.


	6. Chapter 6: From Dusk

**Chapter 6: From Dusk**

He notices the intricate wood designs of the hallway as he walks. The long paneled slats look new he surmises and each door he passes is made of a heavy wood as well, each one shining with fresh lacquer.

Watching her trudge down the hallway ahead of him, his chest constricts as he catches her hand briefly rub against the swell of her stomach.

He can't believe what he's seeing.

It's as if she's almost someone else. He's still trying to wrap his head around the fact that she isn't this hard-ass detective he'd last seen but this person here in the middle of nowhere sporting a belly with no doubt a child growing inside.

He'd always known she'd be a wonderful mother in all the years of knowing her, but seeing it play out is breathtaking in the least.

There are still so many questions floating in his mind though.

He immediately wants to know who the father is.

She leaves New York, childless, single and quite possibly damaged from what she'd told him about Sealview and now this?

This life, this new demeanor, this aura around her is so different from the Olivia he remembers.

He can't say he doesn't like her like this but shit, it scares him.

He knows it's selfish to think she couldn't become this person on her own, it's just the unknown of it all and what could have possibly gone down to make her this person that still wraps around his psyche.

Is she happy like this? Does she even miss her old home? His mind races a mile a minute with questions.

She's changing before his eyes and on top of that, she's been gone for three years. Three agonizing years wondering where she was, what she was doing and if she was okay.

Apparently she's more than okay on the outside he realizes as he trails behind her. She's pregnant and looks healthy besides the darkness that rounds her eyes, but he attributes that to the pregnancy.

And what gets him even more, is the fact that she opened up to him not even twenty minutes ago and in a way she or he could never seem to do their entire time as friends back east.

Besides passive aggressive revelations through the duration of their relationship back in New York, her admitting to what happened in that basement is like a stepping stone he hadn't seen coming.

She's told him about why she left and everything he's asked so far and he wants to know even more.

He wonders if she'll tell him who her baby's father is.

His heart starts to pound because he hopes that something didn't happen to her while she's been here. While she's very capable of taking care of herself, there's still a dread that fills his stomach.

Maybe the one time she let her guard down everything went to hell or maybe it was a one time thing in general and now here she is, alone.

Either way, Olivia doesn't deserve any of that and he hopes, pleads he's wrong.

As he trails behind, he notices immediately when she stops at the very last door at the end of the hallway. The door is to his right and a large bay window sits squarely in the middle of the wall in front of him.

The burnt orange glow of the sun illuminates her skin even more and pours lines of sunlight across the wooden floor as it dips lower into the horizon.

He glances briefly to his left and notices the bathroom directly across from his room and then one more door down, he realizes is her room. The door is sightly cracked open and the bed is in view with the covers turned down in a messy heap.

When he looks back at Olivia, she's standing there with a hand splayed out on her side and the index finger of the other nervously scratching the back of her darker, wavy hair.

"Uh, it's not much," she breathes out pointing with her other hand towards the interior of the room that's to be his. "I haven't been in here in awhile. Just dusting occasionally. It should be comfortable," she shrugs.

He steps directly in front of her to where their sides are both facing the inside of the room. They're face to face for only a brief moment before he peers into the room.

It's nice. A queen sized bed sits in the middle of the bedroom with a small wooden nightstand to the right. Two windows on each wall let in streams of bright light from the outside.

A dark blue and gray Indian styled rug rests on the floor at the end of the bed and a long, full length mirror hangs on what appears to be a large closet area to the left of the bed.

It's simple and cozy, it's Olivia.

He looks back at her and gets a real glimpse of her facial features for the first time since showing up at her door.

Behind the dark circles, her eyes are bright with life and her face has that faint glow pregnant women get, hers not quite as vibrant but still there.

Her lips and cheeks look fuller and her eyes have just the faintest lines around them but she looks great.

He honestly can't remember the last time she looked this beautiful or radiant in the simplest of light.

This, being out here in this fresh air, has done her some good he realizes as he swipes his hand down the back of his head and slowly sidesteps her into the room.

After clearing his throat, he swallows thickly as he glances at the throw resting atop the comforter on the bed, the Mexican-style threading catching his eye from where he stands instantly.

"It's nice, Liv." The nickname he gave her years ago rolls off his tongue with ease as he looks around the room again.

Smiling shyly, she dips her head down and closes her eyes before responding.

"Thanks," she breathes out with a small smile. "I, uh, I arranged it myself. I actually did all the rooms."

He nods appreciatively and stands at the edge of the rug on the floor, just taking in the spacious room. This home is simply beautiful even if he says so himself and he immediately feels at home here with her.

"The architecture of this place is amazing. Looks like someone took the time to do it all right," he smiles back at her.

"Yea," she softly laughs. "You would notice that, huh? Men," smirks and walks closer to him.

He just grins at her over his shoulder. Rubbing his hand across the soft cotton of the comforter, he glances at her from the corner of his eye and notices her shift from one foot to the other, noticeably uncomfortable from standing.

"Mind if we sit?" he asks tentatively as he motions toward the bed.

Her back straightens before she answers.

"Yeah, by all means. Get as comfortable as you'd like."

. . .

Olivia stands at the edge of the Indian rug and looks around herself, the sound of the new springs squeaking under his weight as he sits on the edge of the bed simultaneously traveling to her ears and heart.

She's lost in thought when he clears his voice and instantly her eyes lock onto his crystal blues like a magnet.

"I probably should go get my bag before it gets dark," he says and she nods.

"Yea, you can put your stuff in the closet there," she offers as she points toward the row of mirrors lining the sliding doors of the closet space. "You can just push whatever's in there to the side."

He nods and a semi comfortable silence fills the air between them before he clears his throat again. Before she realizes what he's doing, she hears the soft patting of his hand on the comforter as he motions for her to sit next to him.

"Why don't you get off your feet for a minute and I'll go grab my bag," he smiles sheepishly as she hesitantly glances at the space next to him.

They make eye contact and it's like a light flips on. They've never done this, been this... real with each other.

It's still new and yet all too familiar in the way they communicate with no words. She knows he sees the hesitation in her eyes and thanks him silently when he back-steps a little.

"I mean if you think you need to sit. Wherever you're more comfortable."

Swallowing, she straightens her back and shakes her head to reassure him. She drops her hands from her waist and walks to the edge of the bed.

Before sitting down, she nervously smooths out the comforter and runs her hands down her behind before sitting. She makes sure there's some small space between them even though he left her plenty of room.

When she glances at him from her position, it finally sets in that Elliot really is sitting right next to her. There's no denying it when he's living, breathing, radiating heat from where he is.

He's come after her in no uncertain terms. Even after she'd fled from him years earlier. But he's here and he's made an effort to keep her in his life and her chest feels heavy with gratitude and all sorts of other feelings she's not sure she wants to get into right now.

Pushing away the emotions trying to boil over, she bravely reaches her hand out to touch his that rests on his knee. "I'm fine," she whispers hoarsely. "But thank you." She pulls her hand away slowly and smiles.

. . .

The significance of their proximity becomes apparent as he sits next to her.

After all the effort he had put into finding out where she was, she's letting him be close to her without flinching or being angered by his ballsy move in finding her in the first place.

He wants to know, no he needs to know what has happened in the last three years.

That protectiveness he feels now isn't any different than what he'd felt all those years as her partner.

She looks so feminine, so light without the adrenaline and fatigue associated with working the SVU.

He was rarely allowed to see the woman in her, but when he did it was always with restriction. But now, he just wants to take it all in.

Olivia rubs her palms over her thighs and leans forward over her protruding belly.

When she closes her eyes briefly, he leans forward too so he can catch her expression, worry beginning to surface in his stomach. "Are you ok," he asks quietly, his hand barely grazing her back.

"Yea," she says casually as she sits back up. "I'm just... tired. Having really weird sleep patterns lately," she explains. He just nods and lowers his hand to where it rests lazily on the comforter behind her.

"I can imagine," he breathes out still wondering if she's going to mention anything else or the fact that she's eating for two now. But when she doesn't elaborate any more, his curiosity wins out. "How've you really been, Liv? I uh, what about..." he trails off nodding slightly towards her abdomen.

Her eyes rise quickly to his and it's like she's just now realizing he can see her secret.

.

He's the only other person in the world who knows now and she's not sure what to make of it as she watches his eyes slowly rake over her very pregnant form.

She doesn't answer immediately but instead takes a deep breath and rubs her palms soothingly over her stomach where her unborn child rests.

Before she can answer him, the past three years come swirling through her mind and the thought of telling Elliot everything becomes overwhelming. What will he think? What will he do is more like it? She already saw how much emotion he let pour out when she told him about Sealview.

Though this part of her new story isn't as deterring, it's still hard to talk about since it's all too fresh in her mind.

.

He watches as she sways back and forth a bit, her face passive and her arms curled around her stomach in a protective embrace. When she finally looks up at him, that's when he sees the sadness on her face.

Immediately he reaches for her, pulling her her shoulder into his side unsure of what the sadness truly belies in her.

He squeezes her shoulder trying to get her to look at him but when she looks away from him with tears in her eyes, he can only imagine what else has been going on with her and what his mind conjures up most of the time is never good.

"What's wrong," he breathes out worriedly. "Are you you ok? Do you need me to get you anything? Because I can..." he trails off.

"No El," she murmurs softly, stopping him. "I'm just... I need a minute," she says with a shuddering breath.

"Ok," he says quietly.

Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, she looks down at her hands in her lap. "I've been having a little bit of a tough time the past few weeks. I guess it's expected with everything going on all at once, but it'll be fine."

"What do you mean?" he asks slowly.

"Ah, Elliot I don't know. I just feel like..." she trails off.

"What is it?" he gently prods.

"I don't know," she says on an exhale.

Unsure of what to do, he scoots closer to her and wraps his hand around her wrist to stop her hands from moving. She looks him in the eyes with a sadness no pregnant woman should ever have and it all hits him in the chest.

"Tell me, Olivia. Please, what are you thinking right now? Whatever it is, you can't go there. Liv..."

When she nods her head, he realizes she understands. Only a few moments pass before she looks at him again. He can see every line of her dark brown eyes, the way they pool with unshed tears as she purses her lips trying to hold everything in as usual.

But it's her watery voice, full of emotion that makes him jerk in response.

"I'm just really glad you're here," she sobs on the last word.

He doesn't know how to respond verbally so he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her as close as he can to him in a sideways hug.

She instantly leans her wet cheek on his shoulder and in that moment he promises to let her talk about whatever's weighing heavily on her mind at her own pace.

Whatever is, he'll have to be patient no matter how much he wants to know.

She wraps an arm around his middle and rests her head against him and her faint sniffles invade the calm air surrounding them. He silently encases her in his arms and rocks them back and forth like a buoy in the middle of a gentle wave, holding on until the internal storm passes.

His mind continues to run rampant with different scenarios as she leans against him with her eyes closed. Lifting his thumb and index finger to her chin, he tips it up so he can look in her eyes.

"I'm glad to be here, Liv. I've always been glad to be there. Even if it didn't seem like it, I always was. And right before I got here, I was hoping like hell I wasn't overstepping my bounds by coming all the way out here," he says softly.

She blinks slowly as he rubs small soothing circles against the small of her back and when she doesn't say anything in response, he worries that maybe he had. He swallows hard when she finally opens her eyes all the way.

"I..." he starts to apologize but she grasps his free hand tightly before he can utter another sound. He looks at her questioningly before giving her his full attention.

Taking a breath through her nose, she finally looks down and places her right arm around her bump.

"Five months. I'm not very big because I haven't been feeling like eating lately. I know I should but I've been trying. I do go in a few weeks for another ultrasound because of my age. I'm..." she starts then stops. "I'm pregnant," she pushes out incredulously.

"Yea," Elliot whispers. "I can see that." His voice comes out with a smile behind his words. "I can't believe it either."

She looks up at him with question in her eyes and shifts on the bed.

"I just ... you were, I mean... you didn't ... I don't know, " he struggles trying to find the right way to explain what he's feeling to her but then realizing there isn't one.

She smiles then, giving him a reprieve.

"You mean single, no baby, no life?" she offers lightly, a hint of a smile catching the corner of her mouth.

"Well when you put it like that," he teases. A small laugh escapes her then and that's when he watches her walls slowly begin to falter again, the words he's been searching for from her just at the surface of his oasis.

Her eyes slowly dip down to her hands again where she begins to pick at her well manicured fingernails.

"I mean it seems like yesterday that I was back in Manhattan trying to get justice for Risa and her daughter. Then it seems like I just went to bed and dreamed up the last few years and now I have a baby growing inside me," she whispers so softly he's not sure if it was meant for him or her to digest.

Elliot contemplates long seconds before he boldly decides to reach his hand toward the child safely cocooned inside of her. He hesitates briefly before she lightly grasps his hand and lays it lightly over her stomach.

His hand twitches beneath hers briefly but then he relaxes when she lightly glides his palm across the swell of her stomach in a small circle. When she stops, he removes his hand and turns his body forward, shyly scratching his temple. "I'm happy for you," he offers softly.

This time the silence between them is a peaceful cadence and the next time she speaks, the room is nearly dark as the dusk rolls in casting a faint glow across Olivia's hair and face.

She looks like an Angel with her naturally tanned skin bathed in a deep golden glow from the light outside and it causes him to smile.

"Thank you," she whispers as she pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. "He or she is one of the best things in my life right now."

And while it's true the best thing in life is becoming a parent, Elliot knows it's no easy task for Olivia to accept that she'll be responsible for this child once it's born after experiencing her own childhood. But he basks in the softness of her voice and the sincerity in her words.

He's known all along that she'd be the most amazing mother to her child. Any child would be lucky to have her and he knows deep down the father is the luckiest son of a bitch there is. In his eyes, he still has a hard time believing anyone is good enough for her and now, for her child.

She pulls him out of his thoughts when she speaks again.

.

"When we were downstairs, you said something. You... you said you missed me, and I just wanted to let you know that I meant to tell you I missed you too," she says softly, glancing in his direction, gauging his reaction. When a small grin takes shape on his mouth, she takes it as a good sign that they can say these things now.

When he had said it initially, it had surprised her but it wasn't any less endearing. To hear something like that from him was like he was forgiving her of leaving him behind and absolving her of Oregon and Computer Crimes and now South Dakota.

She recognizes the brief flash of uncertainty in his eyes though. To anyone else, it would be just a smile but when he speaks, she knows she was right.

"Are you happy here?" Elliot asks timidly.

She closes her eyes and thinks for a minute.

Is she happy?

"I..." she starts, taking a deep breath. "I'm content. I know I love it here. And I've loved being here. Being happy is another story, but even if I wasn't I've felt content."

He nods his head in understanding and leans his elbows on the tops of his knees before he massages his temples.

"Well, you look great. I'm glad you seem to be doing good too," he turns his head and that Stabler grin stares back at her.

Perking up a bit, she half laughs at that. "Mhm, quite good, but better now," she reiterates.

.

Sighing, he searches her face as she glances at him from the corner of her eyes.

She's always been such an independent person and always doing things on her own terms and it doesn't surprise him that she decorated this room, let alone the whole house in her own way but as he realizes this, he realizes something else as well.

It seems awfully quiet in this house when it is so big. Someone else should be here and possibly some baby stuff around. But he hasn't seen any of that and since they're being open, he suspects there's a reason.

"Can I ask you something?"

He watches her spin the silver bracelet around her wrist before she answers. Her voice is timid but he can see her trying to be as open as possible. "Hmm, depends. What's on your mind," she smiles.

"Who..." he starts then immediately swallows harshly. Wiping his hand across his forehead, he uses it as a stall tactic for his question.

It's been on his mind since he first figured out she was with child but he still doesn't want to ask something that could erase the smile from her lips.

"Olivia, I don't know if this is out of line, but I was just curious and you know I'd only ask for good reason."

Her head rises up and he watches her eyes narrow in on him in her own curious gaze.

"Well whatever it is, it can't be that out of line, El. I know it's been a long time and you're wondering things but I..."

"Who is the baby's father?" he asks quickly, cutting her off and still hoping he's not broaching on a sensitive subject.

He doesn't want to upset her but he hasn't seen anyone else around. The place is unbelievably silent.

She shakes her head and turns her head toward the bedroom door.

Immediately, his worry escalates. He silently prays to his God that what she has to say isn't bad. He doesn't know what has gone on with her and if she's been hurt in any way during the time she's been gone he doesn't know what he'll do.

He may seriously contemplate hitting something that's hard but he will do what ever he can to make it better for her.

When she turns her head back towards him, her face is passive. "He's gone."

Scrunching his brows, he shifts nervously on the bed next to her but internally he releases a sigh of relief.

"Gone?"

Nodding her head, she bites her bottom lips before elaborating.

"I mean he's gone, Elliot. The baby has no father," she adds as she makes eye contact with him once more.

Wondering what happened, he says the only thing that comes to mind.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, El," she nods sadly as she picks at an imaginary piece of thread on her pant leg.

He sighs deeply at her usual saying. She's always fine when she clearly isn't. He's happy for her pregnancy but he can't help but feel sad for her at the same time.

The father's gone. The baby has no father and he doesn't know why that makes him feel entitled.

Olivia's been his in more ways than he'll ever admit to and ever since he admitted to her that she had been all he had at one point in his life, he's felt possessive even when he had no right to be.

Because she never had been his no matter how much he may have wanted her to be in some capacity.

But her child, that's one thing he's never thought of before. This child's father is not even in its life and it's yet to be born.

Did the bastard leave Olivia? Did he hurt her? Or was he a one time thing?

He can't fathom why anyone would ever leave her and it makes him angry thinking about it.

She tentatively starts to stand up while he's mulling over this, but before she gets far, Elliot stands with her and places both his palms on her shoulders.

"Whatever it is, Liv. It'll be ok," he tries to whisper reassuringly. Nothing has ever been simple for them but as they stand thousands of miles from their past, he can't help but see some glimmer of hope in the fresh air of a new state.

Blinking her long lashes, she looks him directly in the eyes and shakes her head sadly.

"No, it's not ok, it never will be. It can just get better as each day passes. But thank you, Elliot," she smiles reassuringly and walks toward the door. Clearing her throat, she looks over her shoulder at him and announces in a more upbeat voice, "So, since, I ruined dinner... wanna go get something to eat and catch up?"

He smiles widely and nods his head. "Of course. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've been having different cravings but nowhere to get it. So uh, Chinese?"

Laughing at the obviousness of her choice, the one she made many times back home, he walks up to her and offers his elbow. "Chinese it is. Who's buying?"

She laughs out loud as they walk down the flight of stairs arm and arm and it's obvious to him that he'll always buy for her if she continues to laugh like that.

With the air much lighter between them, he uses that as a reason to quell the thoughts still swirling around in his head about this new Olivia.

tbc.

* * *

**Hey all, a different kind of author's note this time. I have a problem. Somehow when I was posting over on the other site, I didn't save chapter 7 and I cannot find it in any of my saved documents on any of my flash drives. I need your help. If any of you saved my fic when it was on the other site or know someone who did, please let me know through a PM. I won't be able to update the story until I find that chapter. I honestly do not know what happened to it. I REALLY apologize and I'm kicking myself so hard for not making sure I had all chapters saved.**


	7. Chapter 7: Stained

**If you're looking for an update, you're in luck this time! :D Thanks to an awesome ****_clzenor_**** you now have chapter 7. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Stained**

"Wanna hear a joke?"

She smiles as she lifts the plastic fork to her mouth. "Hmm, depends. What kind of joke?"

"You know me," he smirks over his egg roll.

The swing flows back and forth a few times and a gentle breeze encases them as they eat. Deep red and orange streaks flow across their bodies as they sit relaxed against the white of the swing.

Swallowing her food, she glances at him from the corner of her eye and his comment hits home for her. She should know him, and his habits, his sense of humor. She should. But instead, she decides to play with him a bit while subtly reminding him of their time apart.. "Sure, so a knock-knock joke," she teases.

Sitting his egg-roll down in the container of rice, he smirks at her, "Ha-ha," he chortles back and it's them again, she realizes.

It's easy and free and it's surreal and it's that thought that flows freely between them when he turns toward her perched form.

She sits her container down as well and gives him her full attention.

Clearing his throat, "A dog, a cat, and a penis are sitting around a camp fire one night...," he starts to say around a bite of rice. The moment so reminiscent of the times they had eaten together as partners.

She remembers when he'd been sick from the anti-HIV meds he'd been taking in their second year and how he'd lost his appetite and then one day she'd walked into the diner and seen his smile at her because he'd finally found it again.

She immediately laughs.

"Elliot."

"What? You said sure," he mocks as if offended, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Sighing she picks up her rice and takes a bite while nodding in his direction to continue. "Alright, just don't gross me out ok?"

Smirking at her, he complies. "So, there's this dog, cat and a penis."

She chuckles again. "Elliot," she puts a hand on his upper shoulder and warns him playfully, "Don't make me laugh." Her hand slips away and the warmth of his shoulder instantly fades as he glances out in front of him to the expanse of her property.

Turning back, he smiles at her and then leans back against his corner of the swing. "No promises," he says softly. "You gonna let me say it now?"

"Oh ok," she finally concedes.

"Ahem," he turns serious. "A dog, a cat, and a penis are sitting around a campfire," he chuckles under his breath. "The dog says, "My life sucks so bad, my master forces me to do my business on a hydrant..."" He peers over at her and she's grinning as she chews. "The cat says, "I don't think so, my master makes me do my stuff in a box of kitty litter.""

She stops him. "You said no gross..."

He grips the container of rice and puts it in his lap leaving her with just her plastic fork in hand and mouth full of rice and chicken. Raising his eyebrows he waits for her to chew and swallow before he continues.

She gives him a playful scowl and looks at his lap before purses her lips trying not to laugh at him. "You can continue now," she says softly. A bright smile spreads across her lips and she can't help but feel content with him sitting next to her.

They had always joked, always laughed at each other in the past, on the good days. She had savored those rare occasions. She'd liked them like that and she still does, especially in this moment. Right now it feels like before all the rough cases, victims and sleepless nights.

She watches him sigh then take a bite of her rice before continuing. "So, where was I?" he laughs.

"Hmm, something about fire hydrant's and kitty litter," she snarls.

"Ahh, yea. So after the dog, the cat goes, "My master makes me go in the litter box yadda, yadda, and then the penis comes in. The penis is outraged. He says, 'At least your master doesn't put a bag over your head and make you do pushups until you throw up...'"

She purses her lips. She won't laugh, she won't.

He squints his eyes at her and takes another bite of her chicken fried rice.

She watches him eat as she tries to hold back the laughter. She had made him stop so many times that the joke fell mostly flat, but it's still ironic. But she won't laugh, even considering the irony of the joke.

Elliot Stabler, the honorary Catholic just made a sex joke. This in turn reminds her exactly what she's missed out on with him. He's changed and it's no more apparent then in the way he freely jokes around with her.

"Don't laugh so much, Liv," he deadpans but a slow smile evolves over the container of rice dangling in front of his chin.

She playfully scowls at him but then turns serious for a moment. "First of all, where has Elliot Stabler gone?" she wonders aloud dramatically. "Who are you?" she says, a hint of smile lining her lips, "And secondly, you tell that joke to a pregnant woman?" she shakes her in mock disappointment, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood, but feeling the need to mess with him.

It's been too long being without him and he's so open that it doesn't take much.

Immediately, he sits up and reaches for her. Before he makes contact, an emotion flits across his face and it's as if he's remembering that they don't do that or even really talk like this, not right before she left at least. So he doesn't and she watches as he lets his hands drop to his lap.

"Liv, I'm sorry. That was rude," he admits solemnly.

Sitting back with her arms cradled below her abdomen, she quietly watches him as he stares out past the porch again. His face is bathed in an orange aura of sundown and as he clears his throat, she realizes she better let him know it's ok.

She reaches her hand out and tries to grab her container of rice back before he turns his head back toward her.

Smirking, she almost gets her hand on the wire handle before he stops her.

"What are yo-" He watches her face tilt upward and she's grinning.

Eyes wide and sucking in her bottom lips she scrunches her nose. He'd caught her. "Wha?" She asks as she reaches for it again and he pulls it back.

He grunts with that cocky grin. "Doesn't work that way. I think you need to tell one since I'm obviously not as funny as I'd thought."

Huffing, she lets her arms fall to her sides in mock defeat. "Dammit, Elliot. I'm hungry and I'm pregnant. Give me my food back and then we'll talk," she smiles.

Shrugging, he relents. She is pregnant and he'd never hold food back from a pregnant woman, joking or not.

"OK. You're right." He hands it back to her and picks his up, lifting it in her direction. She puts hers in between her knee and leg which are crossed like an "L" and then takes Elliot's from him.

"Hmm," she thinks. Tapping the plastic fork against her lip a few times, she looks over at him from the corner of her eye and grins. "So have you heard about the joke with Moe and Joe?"

He shakes his head innocently with a small smile on his lips and his eyes bright. This is fun and a change from who they used to be, even during the last few years of their partnership.

They'd been together for almost ten years when she'd left and before that, before the train station, they would trade dirty jokes during stakeouts every once in a while but she hadn't seem so fragile then, so delicate, not that he'd ever say that to her face.

He doesn't feel like being punched right now. He's on the highest of highs he's ever been on in his life and he doesn't want it to end anytime soon.

She looks back down at her lap and then looks over at him. "Moe says, 'It was so cold last night, I just couldn't believe it,'" she stops realizing what she's about to say to him. Her former partner. Elliot.

It feels different this time around and she feels confident about this thing going on between them right now. This rapport. It's like nothing she's ever felt before, at least not this strongly and without a cloud of doubt lingering so heavily like before.

She chews on the inside of her jaw and then looks back at him trying not to laugh. She squints her eyes and continues. "His friend Joe goes, '

Well, how cold was it?'"

Looking him in the eye, she continues as a small smirk forms over the side of his mouth and her insides flare because he's genuinely interested and waiting for the punch line and it makes her flush before speaking again.

"So, Moe answers, 'It was so cold, that I saw a lawyer with both hands in _his own_ pockets.'"

She watches as his chest heaves slightly when he laughs. Deep silent laughs as he smiles brightly at her and she is relieved. "You know Liv that's not very nice."

She bites her bottom lip and then throws her balled up napkin at him, "You started it," she trails off.

He grins at her as he picks up the napkin and places it in between them.

All of a sudden she senses a mood shift and a silence falls between them. When his voice rings out again, she forgets about their food and the past comes flooding through her in a torrent of memories.

"You know, Casey came back after you left. I remember when she got disbarred a few months after you came back from that undercover stint at Sealview, you took it hard. I don't know how your friendship was before you left, but she always asked me about you and I thought she'd know more than I did."

The wooden swing creaks under both of their weight while a sudden calmness and fullness washes over them, especially her when she realizes that not only did she miss home but that there were people who hadn't really forgotten her. "I missed you all so very much. I didn't ... she was a great friend to me," she smiles sadly as she glances down at the carton in her lap.

"Well," Elliot starts, "I'd say, lawyer jokes are probably not best for the baby," he motions for her stomach jokingly, as she turns her head toward him. "I'm guessing she'd be the gushing aunt figure if she knew," Elliot trails off as he wipes his mouth with his napkin, trying to lighten the mood.

And it works.

"Oh hush, she's the one who told me that joke."

. . .

Dusk sets upon the cerulean sky and the low sun casts a heavy glow that barely washes over the tip of the house. The golden speckles peeking through the trees soothe and calm in an aura of serenity he's come to love in the short time he's been here already.

Olivia scoots herself up and rests her head against the back of the swing that's cushioned by the sweater she had brought out with her when they came back.

Elliot shifts beside her and casually eases his way from the corner to more in the middle next to her. Stuffing his hands underneath his thighs, he rests his head a few inches from hers on the back and just closes his eyes.

It's nice. A chilly breeze blows by every once in a while as the sun continues to set. He'd brought in his bag earlier and remembers seeing his cellphone lit up with a few missed calls. He makes a mental note to call his kids back as soon as possible.

Sighing, he opens his eyes and stares at the sky.

The beautiful open air is filled with tiny silver lights as the moon glimmers, reflecting its dark and light grays against the deep blue of the impending darkness, it's halftones representing the beginning of something much more. The night, it's young and full of life.

He swallows and looks at Olivia without moving his head. Her hands are intertwined and resting neatly across her belly and her head is still thrown back against her light purple sweater. Her eyes are focused in front of her.

At least he thinks so. They're barely open and her breaths are shallow as she dreamily gazes out toward the expanse of green in front of her. The lines of trees in front of her home are haunting yet full of security.

It's beautiful out here.

Turning his head towards her, he stays silent and watches her for a few moments. He crosses his arms over his stomach, listening to their combined breathing.

After a few long moments of gazing at her, then past her and taking in the scenery, he watches as the remaining reds, pinks and yellows of the residual glow above the tall Black Hills Spruce trees lining the narrow dirt road slowly swirl and dissipate into darkness.

The sight just radiates freshness and so he breathes deeply, inhaling the Dakota air.

He feels her shift beside him and he then realizes she's still awake. He barely raises his eye lids and moves his focus to the side of her face. Her dark brown hair rests lazily around her cheeks, the soft waves vibrant against her tanned face.

The glow within her fascinates him.

It's like he's peering into this stained glass window inside of Olivia and it's full of light and colors that he's never seen before.

She must feel his gaze on her because without moving her head, she opens her eyes and looks at him. Her dark eyes gleaming with a slight twinge of moisture and his heart skips a beat.

He has to continuously remind himself this is the same woman.

This is Olivia next to him. Slowly showing herself to him. Inching her way open.

"You know what I used think when I was a little girl?" she murmurs, the words drifting in between them like a soft melody.

He had missed hearing her for so long. Three years. He still can't believe he's here next to her. Breathing with her. Smelling her. Watching her. It's amazing how one person can calm you even after being apart for so long.

The whole plane ride here, he had an internal battle of wills with what he was going to do when he finally saw her. His chest had ached with dread. He knew there was great possibility he wouldn't be able to get them back to before, but he hadn't cared.

He just wanted to know that she was still out there somewhere because he hadn't felt her for three long damn years.

"Mmm, what did you think?" he whispers into the night air.

"I used to sit on my window sill at night, and wait for my mother to come home from one of her night classes she taught," she whispers. "And I would watch the sky turn dark every time and when she didn't show up, I knew she wasn't going to be home soon. So I looked at the sky and pretended that I remembered hearing a story about a goddess in the stars. A legend of a guardian amongst the lights. And when my mother didn't come back until really late some nights, I used to think that if I talked to the stars, I'd be able to sleep knowing something was watching me..." she trails off.

He watches her eyes gleam under the moon as she's lost in own world of past nights and lost moments.

Timidly, he reaches for her hand, laying his flat palm over her intertwined fingers that lay on her stomach.

Once he feels the warmness of her slim hands, he squeezes lightly before letting go, his own thoughts wafting to an Olivia as a child. Someone who never thought she'd ever be in her current situation.

"Did it help?"

"I knew it wasn't true. There are so many of those stories about Gods and Goddesses among the constellations but this one, this one I just made up. I needed something to believe in. But yea, it helped sometimes."

"You were brave, Olivia. To even think of something like that is amazing."

A brief moment passes between them as she takes in his words.

"I hadn't really seen them since," she continues softly. "I hadn't seen those stars since I was a kid. That is until I came here," she looks at him as he turns his head at the same time.

He nods slowly, accepting. Realizing. Loving what she is and has become.

He turns his body toward hers, giving her his full attention as his hand comes back to the space between them. "Were you happy?"

Looking away and into the darkness of the woods, she swallows and nods. "Yea, it wasn't the worst childhood. It wasn't the best either. I learned so much at a young age. It made me realize that what I needed to be when I was older. It made me stronger and hopeful."

Clasping his hands in his lap, he turns his head out towards the scenic picture in front of him. It's not what he meant. Though he doesn't mind hearing about her past because it's always been mesmerizing to hear her talk of a time when he didn't even know her.

"What about here, I mean?" he asks timidly. His stomach churns a little anticipating her answer. He's not sure what her most recent past entails. He definitely doesn't know the full extent of this new Olivia she has become and what went on during the years he's missed her.

"What part?"

"Were you happy that you left?"

Taking a deep breath, she silently contemplates her answer. She doesn't know. It's a two sided mirror when it comes to seeing herself in this place and back in the place of her birth, childhood, former life.

"I don't think I was unhappy," she offers. "I needed some time away. There are some things you just have to do and I did it," she finishes quietly as she bites her bottom lip.

He nods. He accepts it. He doesn't like that she just left, because he cared, cares about her. He had worried about her like never before, wondering if she was okay, where she was, what she was doing and if she was being treated right.

That was his main thought on most days. But he accepts it. He knows if she thinks she needed it, she did because she's never been one to think solely of herself.

"Do you wonder what it would be like to just move somewhere and start completely over?"

Slowly sitting up, he grabs lightly onto the chain connecting the swing to the porch and lays his head against his arm. "Sometimes. Is that what you wanted to do?" he whispers.

Shaking her head, she responds languidly.

"No, not really," she responds. "There's still the past. Everything that makes me who I am. Everything that leads up to right here. Right now," she turns her head and looks him in the eyes. "I could never start over. Really, truly start over. I'd lose too much," she pours out, her last word tinged with the slightest of emotion.

She feels exhausted. Laying down for a few days seems like a palpable idea. Her heart aches in so many different ways because he's here and she had gone so long without letting him know she was okay. And because he's here with her, he's escaped into the tranquility all around them, she can see it in his eyes.

Just like her.

But for how long? She doesn't want to ask right now. She doesn't want to think of the loneliness she'll feel after having him here and then not. It's a feeling she knows that will haunt her if he were to go back tonight. She has bigger gaps inside of her right now that she's never had before.

Open spaces that he doesn't even know about yet.

But with him here, she can feel those spaces filling up once again.

At this moment, she can't ask for anything else to make it better. It is what it is. He's what she needs.

Just him.

That's what he was to her. He was her friend, her life, her other half.

Feeling her resolve change in the last few seconds, he swallows and watches as she blinks a little too fast. Too painfully.

He leans over, reaching his arm around her neck and squeezes her opposite shoulder. Leaning into her, he breathes softly into her ear. Telling her silently, that it's ok. Whatever she's feeling, it's ok.

Her heart soars. It's okay right now. Breathing is much easier tonight. The familiarity is rewarding. There's peace in this moment with him.

Twisting her lips with tears brimming her eyes, she turns her head away but reaches her hand up first and puts it over his this time, squeezing gently. He's so warm and his presence demands her attention.

A long silence passes between them just as the crickets start to chime in the distance.

He feels her shake slightly with emotion.

Her hand feels small on top of his but it's soft and feminine and so full of life.

He wants to turn his over,intertwine their fingers and just sit there in silence and revel in the feeling of her. He shakes his head slowly, trying to sway his thoughts elsewhere but her hand brands his.

Her touch lingers when she hasn't even let go yet and nothing could sway him from leaving her tonight. He's immersed in her and full of want and need to know everything about her again.

Beneath hers, he keeps his hand still, nervous to move it but scoots his body a little closer. Bravely, he looks down at her profile.

She's still looking off to her right and her body radiates warmth yet her skin is slightly chilled. He feels her cotton sweater underneath his arm and pulls it from behind her shoulder, gently pulling his hand from under hers as he opens the fabric for her.

She feels his movement and looks him in the eye, realizing his intention and she smiles. Leaning forward as much as her growing stomach will let her she feels him move the sweater behind her, encasing her with the thready warmth to protect her from the chilly night air.

It gets much cooler at night up here.

She sits back against the hardness of the wood and immediately misses the feel of his hand on her, the individual warmth of each of his fingers wrapped around the mound of her shoulder branding her with intensity.

She turns to him and looks at his hands resting on both sides of his legs.

He's closer and her breath catches because he's nervously tapping his thumb on his thigh and she feels it too. That pull. It's something that's always been between them, that magnetism that lies beneath the briefest of touches.

Taking a deep breath, she refrains from pulling one of his large, calloused hands into hers and laying the combined weight on her thigh. As much as she wants to, she knows it's not something they'd normally do.

Clearing her throat, she turns her body slightly and looks at him. Really looks at him.

"Elliot, you came all the way out to South Dakota. On a plane. In the middle of the work week...," she trails off.

He scoffs lightly. Sitting back and stretching his long legs in front of the swaying swing, he rubs the back of his neck.

Looking at her, he realizes she's truly and utterly surprised that he's here and that she's thinking exactly what he'd been only moments ago. He understands in a way. He'd never truly gone out of his way for her in the past, though he would have done anything for her.

He's not sure if she knows that.

He'd realized sometime during their rough period, that he'd do anything for her in a heartbeat. He'd be there for her no matter what the circumstance. He hadn't exactly known what to do with this revelation at the time. It had scared him but he knew he'd do all that he could to be there anytime.

Much like he is now. He just doesn't know how to explain that to her without throwing her off. They're still trying to figure each other out again. She would have a hard time understanding and he'd have a hard time explaining since he really has no right to want to do those things for her.

Lowering his legs, he searches for the words.

"I, uh..." he stops, rubbing his thumb and index finger over his forehead. "I wanted to see you," he finally utters. "That was it. I went out on a limb and decided, 'What the hell? I'm going to go see her,'" he boldly admits.

His heart beats harshly against his chest. It's true. So many thoughts had crossed his mind. They still do. He had hoped he would really find her. That this wasn't some sort of dead had hoped he wasn't intruding on her new life, a new life with new people in it. He had been hoping she hadn't moved on completely from everything, from him.

But, it hadn't been like his thoughts at all.

She'd been sashaying around her kitchen, in South Dakota, living, breathing, and cooking he remembers. It's only been a few hours but it feels like they've been going around in circles for days, weeks.

"Are you okay with that?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

She looks down at her hands in her lap and shrugs a little bit. She worries her mouth and sighs into the still air that now permeates around them.

"Yea," she nods her head. "I don't have problem with it at all. You know you're welcome. I'm just... surprised still", she smiles sadly.

"Look, I know I was a jackoff most days and I can understand you not wanting to talk to me over the years. Hell, I'd need a break too. I know I didn't exactly make it a fact that you were important to me. I think I have to do things a certain way and I pay the price everytime. Sometimes I never learn and that's what gets me," he grates out as he kneads his forehead with this thumb and index finger.

What does she say to that? What can she say to make him understand that that's why she loves him so much. He's bullheaded and stubborn and angry but he's equally so passionate and subtle and loving that he'd never misuse any of that negativity he seems to think he has to hold onto.

"Oh, Elliot," she whispers on a breath. "You don't even realize do you?"

He bends his head down and shakes it slowly.

"I'm so happy you're here. Really. You actually saved me. Kind of," she smiles at him, wishing he'd look at her. Revealing that bit of herself is scary and she needs to see him, to know he understands.

She keeps letting all these tiny little scraps of sacred information about herself escape her mouth around him. She's so used to bottling things up and never letting them out that it's daunting that right now and after years apart, she is able to just say things.

The corner of his mouth rises slightly and she can tell he understands. The way he knows her and knows she has new secrets but doesn't push it makes her love him even more.

"So, what about you? What has Olivia Benson, former Special Victim's Detective been up to all the way out here in the middle of nowhere for three years? Huh," he nudges her playfully.

She smiles. It's weak but it's there.

"Oh," she sighs like it's no big deal. "You'd be surprised."

"Oh? Well that doesn't surprise me, that I wouldn't be surprised by you. I mean... you always did that," he throws out casually.

Blinking once, twice, she looks at him. He stares back at her and she feels like he's holding back laughter.

She furrows her brows, "What have I always done? And don't say be a pain in your ass because it's mutu-"

"Surprise me."

The quietness of his voice silences the word edging to escape her mouth. Nodding her head, she turns it away from him again, feeling emotion coming from deep within once more.

She sees the near empty carton of rice next to her and picks it up. Snapping her head back to him, she catches his gaze. Lifting the carton, "I can say the same about you," she whispers. She tips the white cardboard box with each word. Raising her eyebrows, she blinks and sits the box down on the smooth wood surface of the porch.

Scrunching his own brows, he crosses his arms over his chest. "How so? I surprise you?"

Grinning, she sits back against the corner of the swing again and mocks his position. Arms across her chest and one leg propped on the swing in front of her belly.

"Yea," she nods, drawing out the single syllable word. "You surprise me all the time. For instance, today. Annnnnd, tonight."

"OK," he draws out himself. "Care to enlighten me, Liv?" he asks sweetly. Jokingly.

She smiles. "Sure. You surprised me because," she whispers the next part closer in front of his face, "You actually told a funny joke for once." Her lips purse and she sits back against the corner, a chuckle vibrating within her.

Furrowing his brows, he thinks back to the joke he told earlier and how he could tell she was holding back her laughter.

Nodding his head deviously, he reaches over and grips the back of the swing. Leaning forward, he whispers mere inches from her face, his breath grazing her cheeks. "That was low, Liv. Reaaaal low," he whispers. Squinting his eyes, he continues. "Same can be said for you," he smirks.

Trying to keep from laughing or letting her heart skip out of her chest from his proximity, she grins. Taking some more of the napkins from the carry out Chinese bag, she crumples one up before turning herself around carefully and sitting forward again.

He's watching her like a hawk. She feels his eyes on her and she wants to touch him and hold his face between her hands. But, she doesn't. Instead, she wads up more of the napkins in her hands.

And then, throwing the paper balls his way, she stands as fast as she can and tosses over her shoulder, "Hah.. You know I'm funny. You're just jealous," she laughs as she moves toward the front door to her house.

In seconds, she's inside and he's still sitting on the swing dazed from her quick actions. He then laughs softly to himself and gathers up everything from off the swing.

As he walks toward the front door, he rubs his eye while his bare feet pad against the warm, sealed wood of the porch.

Making his way through the door, he sees the kitchen light on through the hallway entrance and tries to think up some more jokes so he can prove her wrong. Once the door is shut tightly, he inches his way down the hallway toward the light, and suddenly he's on edge for a reason he can't explain. Jokes are now the last thing on his mind.

When he reaches the doorway to her kitchen, he stops.

Olivia's standing over the kitchen table, palms flat against the surface with her head is bowed.

In mere seconds, he goes from happy and content with a bit of unexplained trepidation, to concern and filled with dread at the way she's standing so stiffly.

"Olivia?"

He gently touches her back and she jumps. She's shaking and her arms are full of goosebumps. He watches as she leans all the way down and touches her cheek to the table, wincing as she does so

"Olivia? What's wrong?"

He leans down next to her and looks at her face from the side.

Taking a deep breath, she turns her face toward his. "I…there was.. I just had a shooting pain in my stomach," she whimpers softly. "It felt like a knife stabbed though me from the inside out," she closes her lips tightly searching his eyes.

Taking a breath through his nose, he reaches an arm around her and rubs her back, the slow and languid movements hopefully calming her. "Have you had them before?" he whispers.

Swallowing hard, she doesn't answer right way.

Scrunching his brows, he tries again, "Olivia?"

She nods. "Yea, a few days ago. I was on the couch and I woke up with a sharp pain. I don't know what it is, Elliot," she cries out.

"Shh," he continues to soothe her and rub her back. "How far along are you again? It could be contractions. All women are different so I don't know, Liv."

"I'm over five months, going on six to be exact."

Standing back up, he shakes his head. "Are you still having pains now? Do you need to sit down?"

She nods, not sure which question she's answering.

He pulls out one of the white arched back chairs and tugs at her arm.

She tentatively stands upright and waddles toward the chair and sits. He kneels in front of her and places both of his hands firmly on her thighs. "Ok, Olivia. Just breathe. It's ok. Let's see if they start letting up."

She nods, breathing through her nose and letting the air escape her lips in long exhales. "I think they're going away now," she lets out in a breathy whisper.

"Alright," Elliot breathes in relief. He stands up and walks over to the sink and grabs a tall glass from her dish drainer. Filling it up with water, he turns around and sees her breathing deeply. "Can you take anything for it?"

The glass fills slowly with cool water and he waits for her to answer.

When he turns around with glass in hand, he nearly drops it.

"Olivia!"

She's slumped over in the chair, her face pale and clammy. He grabs her shoulders and shakes her slightly. "Liv? Olivia? Hey," he touches her cheek. It's cool and sweaty. "Come on, Liv," he frantically starts pulling at her arms. "Let's get you to the ER. You need to see someone."

She starts to mumble under her breath. "N-," she chokes out. "No. No, Elliot. I just need to go lay down," she pants as she grabs onto his shoulders for support. "Just help me to bed," she weakly cries. "Please?"

He swallows hard. She needs to get to a doctor. She looks like she's about to pass out. Nudging her to look at him, he cocks his head, "No, Liv. I'm taking you to the hospital. You're not ok. You look like you're about to pass out. And you were just fine outside."

Finally, after a few seconds, she nods in compliance.

Once she gets her bearings, she mumbles, "Ok, just let me stand here for a second. I just need to stand still for a minute."

As he holds onto one of her shoulders, he lets the other go and reaches into his pocket for the keys to his rental car sitting in her driveway.

In the split second it takes for him to reach down, her worried voice halts his actions.

"EL? Hurry," she pants out in a whisper as she grips his shirt sleeve as tight as she can. "I think I'm bleeding."

. . .

tbc.


	8. Chapter 8 Normal

**Chapter 8: Normal**

Cruz Chapter 8

"She was special, an angel. She used to take me outside after my dad left for the war, and we'd go walking down the gravel path near where we used to live. One day she told me something I'll never forget."

"She sounds like a beautiful person. I would have loved to have met her."

"She would've loved you. I know that for a fact." He takes a strand of her hair and pushes it behind her ear.

He shifts on his side and pulls her back against his chest as they lay on the blanket out in the open sea of grass. It's the pasture in the next town over where he gives horseback -riding lessons. Somehow, Olivia found her way onto his list of prospective riders.

"You wanna know what she told me?"

His whisper is a soft whisp against the skin of her ear and he wraps his arm tighter around her waist as he waits for her to answer.

"Sure," she whispers, never taking her eyes off the bright ball of light in the middle of the burnt orange and red glow of sundown.

"She told me, that I could do anything in the world I wanted to. I could protect, nurture, love, heal anything, anyone I wanted. Even my little brother," he whispers into the night air.

She sits quietly for a few seconds pondering what he's just told her. Then she turns her head toward him suddenly.

"You have a brother? You never said anything," she trails off. "Why didn't you say anything?" she whispers tentatively, staring at his darkened features as the sunlight slowly dissipates along the horizon.

He shrugs and bites the inside of his lower lip, then glances at her from the corner of his eye before taking a deep breath.

"I didn't want to throw too much at you. There's so many things I wanna tell you. And that's one of them. I never met him. When my father went off to Vietnam in the late sixties, I was only about three years old and my mom, well… my mom was about six and half months pregnant with my 'little me' as I used o call him."

A silence sifts between the two as a slight breeze sifts between them. A tuft of her hair blows in her eyes and after she pushes it behind her ear, she reaches for his hand resting on her lower abdomen, squeezing it lightly. "What was his name?" she whispers curiously.

"When she miscarried a month after my father was killed in 'Nam, it was because she was distressed. She wanted to name him after his father, but thought it would be too much at once, so she let me pick a name out. I wanted him to be 'Jollie' like my stuffed bear I used to carry around, but that didn't suit a baby so we both agreed on… and mind you, this was a three year old debating with his mother what to name the second son she'd never know… we decided on Michael. Michael Lee Dalton. Still after my father, Lee Dalton, in a way. Simple. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to have him around today. Because you know, both parents gone, no one to talk to... gets a little quiet," he admits.

Sitting up, she turns to face him. She stares at his profile for long moments before speaking.

"You have someone now." A few moments pass before she continues. "I felt the same way for the longest time. Then one day, it all changed and ..."

"But you had your squad, something constant. I've never had that. It seems as if I repell that sort of lifestyle."

"You're the kind of person who gets along with people, no matter what," she cuts in. After a few moments, she continues in a softer tone." I would've loved to have met him too. If Michael was anything like you, he'd be a quite the gentleman," she smiles. "Men like you are a rare breed, that's for sure," she offers softly.

"Oh yeah?" he snuggles his face against the back of her neck. "Know any other gentleman? That top me?" he chuckles playfully into her hair and then looks back up to the sky.

She breathes deeply, her thoughts flowing back to a different time and a different place with different people. And yes, in that other place, a set of crystalline blue eyes that belong to a man who fits into the same category as the one behind her stare back from behind her eyelids.

The same sapphire eyes that still burn holes into many of her dreams at night.

"Yea, I know a few," she twists in his hold a little and grins down at him from the corner of her eye.

He watches the sky, seemingly lost in thought as the fading slivers of light illuminate the stars and the rest of universe above them. His eyes narrow and his breath hitches as he internally comes to a conclusion about something.

"He'd be thirty-eight this year."

A few moments of silence pass between them before she reaches for his warm, solid hand. "I'm sorry," she says softly.

He places his hand over hers and lightly shakes his head, "No, don't be sorry. I want to remember him in any way possible. Even if it's in small ways, I'll always remember him. That's how I want to be remembered."

Taking a deep breath, he looks back toward her face, his cheek bathed in a dim silver glow, "I just want to leave something behind worth remembering, that's all," he says, pointing to the sky. "Like those stars, they're always there and no one forgets that.. It's amazing."

She lays back down next to him and lets him enclose her within his arms once again, allowing one of his hands to rest on her hip. She rubs her thumb over his roughened skin and closes her eyes. "We're more alike than anyone knows," she whispers into the dark. She's not sure if he hears it but when he kisses the back of her hair, it's enough.

Her eyes are focused on the rough ceiling of her room when the memory fades. The lights are out and the shades on her window are pulled half way closed allowing a glint of silvers and blues to seep onto the soft white carpet and the edge of her bed from the moonlight.

Her eyes are half closed when she notices the the bedroom door still partially open and she wonders how she made it through it earlier tonight. Then, she wonders why things happen the way they do at all.

Shifting under the warm covers, she feels content yet there's still an overwhelming urge to ball up in the corner and watch the darkness escape the confines of her room until the silver gleam of night finally turns into the golden hues of the next day.

He can't sleep.

The flurry behind his eyes refuses to cease everytime he closes them.

He wishes like hell he could go back in time and stop doing what he had been doing earlier.

Even though he knows it's foolish to blame himself, he still feels like he could've done something different to avoid her episode in the kitchen.

He even knows it's ridiculous to think he's the reason she was in the emergency room for five hours tonight. But he can't shake the memory of her hunched over the table and the way her eyes widened with fear right before she'd fainted against his shoulder.

"Because of her age, she needs to pay close attention to the ways her body is changing. Forty-two is an age where pregnancy needs to be attentively watched. Especially since this is her first one?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure it is," Elliot retorts. "She's been under stress," he reluctantly reveals after a moment. "What kind of stress exactly, I'm not sure..." he trails off.

The obstetrician offers an understanding nod of her head and Elliot sighs in relief. The woman is the same age as Olivia and her friendliness and easy going manner make Elliot feel much better about the reason they're here in the first place.

"So, has she been active at all? Has she been moving around a lot? And though it's a common myth lifting heavy things is a factor in complications, it doesn't mean it's totally out of the question since she's pregnant in her forties.

Elliot nods, understanding where the doctor is coming from. "She's always been active," he explains, then shaking his head, really not sure though what she could've been doing before he showed up. "Though I'm not one-hundred percent sure how much physical exertion she's been doing, I have seen her be mindful with the way she maneuvers around, she's someone who insists on doing everything right. She wouldn't be careless with her child's life-"

"Well we do take everything into consideraton," the doctor says, trying to soothe any anger she's caused with her questions. "She is an active person you said? Has she been exerting herself other than around the house? Sex?" the doctor offers, letting the last words hang in the air as she briefly raises a brow.

Shifting on his feet, Elliot looks over to Olivia. He's wondered the same things. He really has no idea. He wants to know though. He's been wondering that since he first saw her but now that he's been asked, his heart sinks.

"I'm not her husband," Elliot offers quietly as he nervously scratches his brow with his pinky finger. "I'd ask her," he whispers. "We're uh, we're old friends," he stutters slightly as he watches a nurse lift an I.V. bag onto the metal hooks above Olivia's head.

"Oh I see," the doctor says under her breath as she continues to jot notes onto a small clipboard.

Swallowing hard, Elliot looks back to the doctor. "She said she was bleeding," he blurts out softly, his heart pounding. "Any idea why?"

The doctor quickly writes something down on her clipboard and nods toward Olivia as the nurse finishes getting her situated. "I'll tell ya both."

Elliot goes over to stand next to Olivia's bed and he immediately notices the way her hands rest limply at her sides and how only a thin sheet covers her legs . Then, he silently watches as the doctor approaches her on the other side.

"Olivia. Hello, I'm Doctor Felton. I'm going to explain a few things alright? And then I'll need to ask you some questions, because, though I did observe the bleeding and the contractions you were concerned about when you came in, I need to know a few more things since I'm not your regular obstetrician, okay?"

When Olivia nods, Elliots steps even closer to the bed and she immediately reaches for his hand.

Her immediate reaction causes his heart to skip a beat and he's a little surprised she's letting herself look vulnerable but he leans over the bedrail any way and rests his hand over her slightly trembling one.

"Alright, Olivia. Since we already did the sonogram to check on the baby, we know that's she's okay," Doctor Felton stops and glances down her clipboard. As she does so, Olivia sighs in relief, grazes her fingers over her mouth with one hand and squeezes Elliot's hand with her other. Returning one hand to rest on her stomach, her focus lifts back up just as the doctor continues.

"The bleeding can be from a range of things. Now it's not normal for you to bleed because of stress, and Mr.?" the doctor trails off.

"Uh, Elliot," he offers the doctor.

"Right, and Elliot here mentioned the stress you seem to be under and that is a concern. Stress can lead to preterm labor and one of the signs of preterm labor is bleeding…" The doctor hears Olivia and Elliot's joint sharp intake of breath and works quickly to assauge their fears. "However, considering that it wasn't heavy bleeding, that it has already stopped and that the earlier contractions weren't regular, I don't think preterm labor is the cause of the bleeding in your case. Also, your placenta looks intact and fully attached to your uterine wall from what your ultrasound today showed, so I don't think we have to be concerned about any placental issues.

Olivia immediately glances down at the white sheet covering her abomen then glancing at the doctor as her words filter around digest in her brain. She'd never thought about any of this and it only briefly assauges her worry.

"As for what caused the contractions you experienced earlier Olivia, at almost twenty-three weeks, it's also possible that your uterine muscles are beginning to prepare for labor by producing false contractions which were most likely what you were experiencing at home. They're also known as Braxton-Hicks contractions. The way you can tell the difference between these contractions and true labor is that these don't come regularly and they don't get stronger over time, they will lessen or dissapear if you change positions. Next time, you have contractions, you and Elliot here should time them, see how strong they are and, he can help you move around if you need it. If any of this changes the nature of the pain you're feeling, it's false labor, but if the contractions get closer together or get more intense, you should come back here."

Olivia silently nods, taking in what the doctor has to say and the fact that the woman assumes Elliot will be part of the situation long term as she stares down at the white sheet beneath her hands. Nervously, she shifts her bulging body and swallows, looking the doctor in the eyes. "I've cramped a few times but the pain earlier was different that's why I thought something was wrong. And then when I felt... the wetness..."

The doctor nods with a small smile.

"It's good you were checked out just in case it had been something serious. For now though, you just need to make sure you take it easy. And take care of yourself, including keeping your body filled with liquids. Dehydration can cause contractions as well."

She nods and a nervous gulp follows after and Elliot can tell she's trying to take in all information and learn as she goes. It must be hard. Being the father of five, he still finds himself learning something new even at his age.

A few silent moments pass as the doctor watches Olivia roll over the new information in her head. She turns away and flips the pages on the clipboard over before eyeing Elliot. He glances at the doctor before looking to Olivia.

As she struggles to sit up slightly, she releases his hand but he can see her face and senses her doubt. She's still not convinced everything's okay, he knows her.

"There is something..." she starts again quietly, grabbing Elliot and Doctor Felton's attention.

Elliot's heart sinks a little as her timid voice grips his heart causing him to grab the rail a little tighter, wondering if she'd care if he grabbed her hand again. When she glances at him as if she's nervous about saying something out loud, his breath escapes him in a heavy rush.

"What's on your mind Olivia? I saw you had a regular check-up scheduled for next month with your own doctor but it doesn't hurt to make sure now if you have any concerns," the doctor prods gently as Olivia nervously shifts again.

Taking a deep breath, she shudders as she thinks about what's she's going to say. She wonders if all that time as a detective made her anymore prepared to be a mother than her mother was when she was pregnant.

She'd thought in the past that she'd be better prepared and better informed during a situation like this but thinking of all the things that can go wrong, she's not sure if anything she's ever learned on the job really did anything for her.

Make her worry about what bad things could happen in the future, yes, but she sometimes forgets that there's a present also and there are aspects she needs to cover to make sure there is a future.

"I...I was showering yesterday and I kind of... blacked out. But only for a few seconds..." she throws out quickly, nervously. She licks her bottom lip and scratches her eyebrow with her thumb."I remember standing there under the spray and then I remember holding onto the railing inside. I don't know what it was and I didn't think anything of it. I fell a little against my stomach because I remember feeling the coldness of the rail on my skin," she trails off with tears breaking from behind her voice.

"Okay, it's okay. Looks like it didn't harm the baby. You could very well have gotten over heated in the shower. With the chance of high blood pressure it's not uncommon. We'll have to check yours again to be sure as protocol. You'll need to be extra careful. Have someone watch out for you a little," she retorts, glancing at Elliot. "Maybe take some sponge baths here and there. Just small things."

Nodding her head, Olivia bites her bottom lip still worrying about having possibly hurt her baby. She noticeably swallows and rubs both palms down her face before turning her head towards the doctor so Elliot can barely hear her next stream of words.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, Olivia. Are you worried about something else?"

Shaking her head, a shuddering breath escapes. "I just want to be sure. I um..." she hesitates. "I um don't want to repeat history," she whispers.

Elliot catches the last part of her sentence and shifts curiously on his feet and rests his back against the wall in the small room. He's only a few feet from her, but he feels miles and miles away when he thinks about what she could possibly mean.

His eyes furrow and he's not sure if he should be hearing what she's obviously umcomfortable talking about.

"Do you want some privacy?" Elliot speaks up shakily from his position beside her small bed.

She looks up quickly as if she's forgotten he's still there. Looking down at her hands, she thinks about a few seconds before nodding. "Yea, if you don't mind," she breathes. "I'm sorry. It's just..." she worries her lip.

"It's ok, I'll wait outside."

"Ok, Elliot. Thank you," she purses her lips as if she's about to cry from what she's asking him to do.

He gives her a small smile and nod before pulling back the floral curtain and stepping into the quiet hallway outside the room, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

"Alright, Olivia," the doctor says quietly as she turns back toward Olivia. "I didn't want to say anything while he was here just in case you didn't want him to know anything private. Which brings me to ask, and I don't mean to be invasive, but we have to be thorough in our questioning for the sake of you and your baby since we didn't have time earlier. Have you engaged in sexual activities at all during your pregnancy, either with someone else or on your own?" the doctor asks gently remembering Elliot telling her he wasn't her husband but just a friend. She wants to make sure her patient is well cared for. She seems like a genuinely good person and she doesn't want to let anything slip past her own medical judgements in relation to her patient's earlier concerns when she'd arrived.

Olivia runs her palm down her face and rests it over her eyes for a moment. She silently counts to ten before partially lifting her hand and peeking out from behind it. "Uh, yea. One of the things you briefly mentioned when Elliot went to the bathroom earlier, I have done. Erm, by myself," she admits hesitantly, a light blush covering her cheeks and neck.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know," Doctor Felton whispers with a gentle, knowing smile. "I think what caused your bleeding has been accounted for and you're in the clear now. And the activities we spoke of earlier, either alone or with a partner, are fine in moderation. I'm just going to check one more thing and then we'll get you out of here," the woman smiles from the stool positioned near Olivia's bent knees.

Olivia exhales and nods her head. "Thank you doctor."

. . .

He stands with his one shoulder against the wall of the hallway, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His head is bowed down as he listens to the sounds around him. Some nurses, a few patients and the sounds of monitors all throughout the area fill the air as he waits.

But he can't keep his ears from perking up with every little detail he can pick up from inside her room even if it's not directed at him.

He's about to walk toward the vending machines in the waiting area to give her space until he hears Olivia's husky voice filter out, soft and delicate.

He knows he shouldn't listen but the way her voice carries draws him in. He'd heard Olivia and the doctor talking in hushed whispers earlier and assumed it was definitely a private matter but now, he's transfixed by what little he can hear.

Listening in, he's instantly amazed at how she's dealt with her pregnancy alone. He's in quiet awe of her until he hears her doubt again about the baby she's carrying now.

When the doctor once again reminds her she's having a little girl from inside the small room, he smiles. Olivia's going to have a daughter. Something about having a miniature Olivia walking around does something to him.

It's like a secondhand pride, stemming from the pride he feels concerning Olivia herself and, it'll be no surprise to him if that baby is just like her mother.

The smile on his lips grows wider at the thought until he catches the solemness in Olivia's voice again.

"I just wanna make sure everything's okay... don't wanna lose my baby girl. I had a miscarriage once before... can't do that again..." she says quietly, though her voice unfortuntely for the privacy she'd craved, carries straight to his ears and the earlier grin slowly fades from his lips.

He had known he'd heard her right the first time.

God, there is so much she's been keeping secret, if only he can get her to open up one day when they're not surrounded by beeping machines and people in white coats.

Elliot can hear Doctor Felton reply in a gentle tone as Olivia readjusts herself in the bed that's probably uncomfortably stiff.

"I completely understand, honey."

He doesn't hear Olivia reply, just the doctor shuffling about the small room. Moments later, he hears the rustle of sheets and the elastic snap of doctor's gloves.

Elliot sighs as he imagines what Olivia must be thinking.

He knows she's strong and one of the most resilient people he's ever known but there's something about witnessing her experiencing all these tests and probings as she goes through each stage of pregnancy that unnerves him and stregthens his seemingly ever present desire to take care of her, protect her from pain of any kind.

As the painful words she'd uttered a few minutes before sluice through his brain, he swallows hard and presses himself to walk toward the small waiting area a few doors down the hallway. Sinking down into a seat, he tries to push his worry to the side so he can support her now in any way he can.

She can't believe Elliot had to see her like that.

She takes a deep breath and pulls the covers higher up on her chest. He's only been here for a few hours and he'd already had to bring her home from the hospital.

She knows he won't judge her and she wouldn't expect anything less than support from him but it still makes her self-conscious knowing that it was more than apparent she hasn't been completely taking care of herself.

As the bedside clock buzzes in her ear, she turns her head and watches the flourescent green light dance, vibrating as the digital numbers strain to turn into the next moment.

2:19 a.m.

He's been here for nine hours now.

Nine hours and it feels like a lifetime.

Since she first saw him standing in the doorway, it's felt like days have passed yet he's only been back in her life for less than an actual full day.

She shivers as a small breeze wafts through the small gap between the window itself and the sill.

Pulling the heavy comforter higher and over her arms, she clenches her eyes shut, feeling herself tighten with tension and emotion.

The doctor had given her some light pain relievers and strict orders to keep all activities easy.

Doctor Felton never outright said it, but Olivia knows the she was insinuating, things about Elliot. Elliot having sex with her…. Activities.

Suddenly, her cheeks warm and the shivers disappear. Her skin itches underneath the comforter with need and her body still aches in ways that far exceed simple activity. She rubs her side where the cold metal had pressed and a low moan escapes as she tries to soothe her body.

She pulls up her lightweight nightgown up under her breasts and then runs her clammy palms over her expanding belly. It seems as if it's filled out more since she woke the morning before.

She feels around and gasps when she feels a faint kick underneath her skin. In the emergency room, the tech had done a sonogram but she had been too wound up to notice. She regrets it now, even though she has a print out of her baby sitting on her desk.

At the time though, knowing Elliot and the tech saw her baby move around made everything okay even if she herself couldn't concentrate.

Bending her legs under the blankets, she continues to rub her swollen midsection as she listens to the quietness of her home. It reminds her of nights when she's been home alone and had nothing to soothe the ache in her body, her only accompaniment, the creaking of the house as it settled each night.

She throbs though, in ways she'd only read about in the only book she'd bought after she'd found out. Swallowing hard, she fights the urge to do something about the ache in her core but remembers that even though the house is achingly quiet, she's not alone.

She hears the sheets rustle every once in a while from across the hall. His door is partially open and she wonders if he's sleeping either. She knows she could never sleep in there.

As the thought drifts in and then out of her mind, her eyes slip closed as a cramp builds in her back. She tries to shift to a more comfortable position but nothing soothes it so she rolls partially onto her side, noticing the bright numbers now read 2:30 a.m. on her clock.

She thinks about time and how much of it she'll have to lay like this. How many more hours, days, weeks she'll have to endure as she grows bigger and bigger with child, wondering if she'll make it throughout the entire pregnancy without another dip in the road.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs the edge of the heavy comforter and throws it off her legs.

Take it easy. Rest. Not too much exertion, she ticks each order off in her mind.

She keeps hearing the words in her head but she's never been one to underestimate her own physical capabilities. She knows her boundaries and reminding herself that everything's okay, she slowly sits up in bed and swings her feet to the side as gingerly as possible.

As her feet touch the ground she remembers to keep calm and breathe and to remember that everything is normal, that everything inside of her is okay.

But, she can't forget the way it all had felt earlier so she sits tentatively, taking a few deep breaths before carefully, shifting to the edge of the bed.

Reaching behind her, she grabs a smaller red blanket and wraps it around her shoulders, the silky material of her nightgown hardly garnering her any warmth at all.

With the blanket wrapped around her securely, she stands up and slips outside her bedroom, silently taking the stairs in hopes that some fresh air and the soft cadences of nature will soothe her once again. They haven't failed her yet.

. . .

Then wooden floorboards groan in the hallway and he hears her every step even though he keeps his eyes closed. He's wide awake. He's trying to rest his body and his mind but his mind continually drifts to Olivia.

He can't shake the thoughts of what she said back at the hospital. Six hours had almost passed when she'd finally been released but it hadn't been long enough for his ears to unhear what she'd said to the doctor.

She'd fallen in the shower.

He had thought the worst at first but then had been saddened by the fact she'd been completely alone when it'd happenened.

The last thing he remembers her saying keeps running laps in his brain though.

Miscarriage.

Sighing, he opens his eyes and stares at the rough textured ceiling. His eyes scan the surface before he hears a creak in the wood right beyond his door and he assumes she's going to get her some water or going to the bathroom. He can't see her bedroom from his angle but he'd snuck a peek into it earlier, keeping a close watch on her.

As a cool draft seeps into his room, he wonders what she'd do if he came to her room and just lay next to her. If he could just lay next to hert, he'd make sure she slept as soundly and comfortably as possible.

Maybe he would wrap his arm around her and reassure her he'd be there even if whoever got her pregnant wasn't.

It's a vivid moment as he realizes he'd stay here for the duration of her pregnancy if he could.

Earlier, he'd heard her moaning softly and wonders if he should have gone and checked on her then. That then got him thinking of what she would do if she needed someone during the last stages of her pregnancy.

Pulling the blue blanket off of himself, he sits on the edge of the bed and listens. There's nothing but quietness all around them except for the faint sounds of nature he can hear beyond her doorstep.

The depth of silence in this house unnerves him in some ways. He's not even sure he can hear her silence across the hall anymore. Her breaths, her moans, her rustling underneath her own comforter had been comforting to him even though he'd been thinking of ways he wished he could help her.

After a few beats, he stands up and finds the courage to go over to her roroom. To check on her. To watch her.

He doesn't know what she'll think but he needs to see her.

He won't lie to himself, he had been scared for her earlier. Never in his life or since he's known her, had he felt pure fear seep into his own bones like he had earlier that day realizing what could happen to her or her baby.

Once again, an overwhelming urge to lay next to her and soothe her worry invades him.

Walking out of his bedroom door, he immediately notices her door is open slightly more than it had been when he had finally willed himself to undress and pull down the blankets of his own bed for the night.

He peers around the wood door and immediately notices she hasn't returned yet. The drawer next to her bed is slightly open and her scent wafts from it and around him even in her absence.

Rubbing the back of his head, he turns and exits her room, noticing that the upstairs bathroom is open and no Olivia.

He moves quickly down the hallway and then the creaky old wooden stairs trying not to let panic surge through his veins.

As he approaches the last step, he hears the soft whoosh of wind coming through the small crack in the tall window in the living room before noticing that the front door is slightly opened.

"Olivia?" he calls out.

When pushes out the front door and steps onto the wrap around porch he almost gasps in panic. Down on the dirt road in front of her home, he can see a figure, slowly, tentatively walking away from the house with a red blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a flashlight burning rays into the deep midnight blue of night.

Sighing, he closes the screen door behind him and wraps his arms around himself as he slowly steps down the small porch steps after her.

He silently curses as the gravel crunches under his feet with each step, knowing she'll probably be angry with him if she catches him following her. She's clearly okay but, in his mind, she has no business out here in the middle of the night especially walking down some dirty road going God knows where.

Especially after the episode she'd had earlier.

tbc.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading. I have to thank my beta Cori so much for helping me with this chapter. I owe a big part of all the medical information to her crafty wording and great research. I hope you enjoyed and hope you let me know what you think. This is the last chapter that hadn't been beta'd before so hopefully the rest will be up faster so I can continue this story where I left off in chapter 16. :) **


	9. Chapter 9: Safe

**A/N: I apologize to everyone reading this for the long wait. I just have so much going on now (I know the excuse heard around the world) but it's true. I got a new job and going to school and then my grandmother passed away in early August so, it's all jsut taken a lot out of me. So I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll post the rest of the chapters every 3 or 4 days until we're all caught up and then I'll try to write some more. Thanks so much for the support. :)**

. . .

**Chapter 9: Safe**

She's wide awake. And cold.

But she doesn't care as her foot presses against a fallen stick on the ground. It crunches beneath her feet and her balance shifts only momentarily but she slows her pace anyways. Up ahead the woods get darker and denser but she doesn't worry.

He's behind her.

She had felt him as soon as she had approached the edge of the woods. With every crunch of gravel from her own feet, the momentary lapse in between allowed her to hear his.

He hasn't said anything but she knows he's not happy by the way he trudges on after her. From the corner of her eye, she can see his head bowed with is hands stuffed under his armpits, warding off the same chill she feels. He's probably already given up the notion of stopping her, remembering that she is just as hardheaded as him.

Before she'd made it outside to meet her mission, she had peeked through the crack in his bedroom door seeing that his eyes were closed. She assumed he was asleep but now she realizes he wasn't.

As she steps onto the cylindrical rocks up ahead, she looks back over her shoulder. It's a dark midnight blue all around her and she can see his faint silhouette in the gap of trees.

She waits for him as he follows the path of light she shines in his direction from her small flashlight.

It's almost dream like. The faint aura of the moon casts slivers of golden light across their bodies and it feels like a fantasy that he's followed her into.

This is her safe place; somewhere only she knows about. Having him follow her here is something surreal and it causes her to shiver as a sudden breeze flows briskly through her loose strands of hair.

Wrapping the blanket more tightly around shoulders, she closes her eyes and lets herself bask in the early morning haze.

His footsteps are getting closer and she thinks that maybe he's apart of the healing this time. Maybe he's meant to be here right now.

She should have known in some capacity he would have followed. He's followed her since the day they met. Having him follow her now only resets the tone that has always been in their relationship.

And that's been an unspoken understanding.

She's been following him for over a decade.

Much like their relationship, friendship, partnership, she continues to wait for him as he grovels his way toward her.

The stream ahead, her goal in this small adventure, is a wonder in her small world.

She lets her eyes open and he's only a few feet in front of her, arms wrapped around his midsection and his bushy brows furrowed at her in confusion.

_What are you doing?_

She reads his expression and lets her eyes droop halfway closed. Lifting her head, she lets her eyes wander around the expanse of trees and moonlight before meeting his gaze again.

"I sometimes," she starts out in a hushed tone."I sometimes come out here when I can't sleep, it helps calm me," she offers as his brows lift in interest.

He nods but his posture stiffens as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"But, in the woods?" he asks, his voice a soft whisper.

"Yea, kind of," she offers back softly.

He waits a few beats before glancing over his shoulder toward the gap in the trees where he had entered. "You shouldn't be out here," his voice low, eyebrows slightly raised. "You need to rest, Olivia."

"I am. I'm not just wandering around a black forest because I can. Come on, this way," she urges gently, nodding her head toward a point in front of her. "This is what I want you to see, all these trees are just for show," she throws over her shoulder as she steps onto the first round rock.

"Whoa, Olivia? Where are you going?"

"In there." She nods her head toward the short rock path and the circle of trees just past it.

She continues her route and in seconds she's on the other side waiting. He humors by following her lead and taking the rocks two at a time. "Olivia, I don't think..." he trails off.

Once he's standing in front of her again, she lifts her hand slightly to his chest, shaking her head lightly.

"Shhh. Just come on. Trust me on this, Elliot," she softly pleads as her bold eyes glisten in the silver streams of starkly lit moonlight.

Realizing her persistence hasn't wavered at all since her days as a detective, he obliges once more.

He'll follow her.

He'll always have her back.

Swallowing hard, he shakes his head slightly as he follows her with his hands at his sides ready for anything out of the ordinary.

He follows her closely until they reach another gap of trees and the sound he almost instantly hears shifts his mood. He can feel his gruff exterior transition to silent adoration. The calmness that immediately overtakes him is nothing he's ever felt before.

His eyebrows furrow and his lips part as the soft melody of lapping water permeates his senses. Briefly closing his eyes, he allows himself to understand Olivia's reasoning for coming here. He feels as light as a fluffy cumulus cloud floating above the lush green earth during the summer and he feels awake. Inside of him feels like it's been pried wide open and everything inside of him is free to swirl out and into the cascading wind.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep, cleansing breath before opening them back up to see her standing in front of him, a curious but knowing look flitting across her beautiful face as she watches him acclimate to the aura around him.

Slowly, languidly, he finds himself walking up to her as she stops and looks up to the dark blue sky lined with a million tiny diamond lights. The moonlight casts a shade of silver over her pursed lips, her tossed wavy hair as it dangles around her face and in this moment, he doesn't remember a time in his life where he's really felt this free and cleansed of the dirty city air that's invaded his veins for years.

He watches her eyes slowly open and she peers at him from over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes. They briefly crease downward as she lets a smile small float across her lips.

Turning around, she lightly tugs on his upper arm once and then turns away from him, walking behind the faint white glow of the flashlight.

Taking a deep breath he follows her once more. The fringes of the blanket dangle with each sway of her swollen hips that are encased beneath only the silk nightgown she's wearing. As he watches her move several feet in front of him, he wonders what's going through her mind, if this is really her or some sleep induced version of herself he's never seen before.

Olivia knows her limits, he gets that. But why did it have to be at two in the morning?

Shaking his head, he wonders if she's going to defy what every doctor tells her until she has the baby. With her being pregnant, he imagines it's one of her goals to prove to him that she can still handle herself. Handle the baggage that comes with carrying a child.

He knows she can do what she wants. He'd known that for nine years as her partner but seeing her now, he has to wonder if the hormones are affecting her judgement.

If not, then he's learning something new about her in this very moment. He admires the way she handles herself and in a way, he can't fault her. She'd never go overboard and since she probably thinks this is her only pregnancy, she's making the most of each moment before the arrival.

Olivia stops at a big rock several feet to the side of their path and pulls the blanket more tightly around her before she makes her move to sit down next to the powdery-white stone.

She rests the flashlight on top and turns herself so she can bends her knees slightly, an attempt to sit down in front of it. She flinches momentarily because of the awkward position and rubs her stomach in a circular motion before standing straight up again.

Sighing, she looks over her shoulder at him with a forlorn expression because she really doesn't want to ask him for help, he can see it in her eyes even in the dark. She wants his help and he doesn't want to give it. He'd much rather take her back inside before she overdoes it.

She breaks through his mental wanderings with her husky voice.

"Can you," she hesitates. "I just need a little support," she glances down, slightly embarrassed.

He hesitates as well and he quickly realizes she's giving him an ulcer already in the hours that he's been here. He smiles to himself before turning toward her. She really shouldn't be out here, especially in the woods straining herself to sit down on the forest floor.

He nods though, because he can't turn her down.

"Yea, of course, let me." He grabs a hold of her wrist and places his palm on her lower back as bends down with her, sitting on the edge of the rock and letting her body slide down in front of his legs.

"Are you ok?" He asks, as he bunches up the blanket she' brought with her underneath her for extra cushion. His voice is low and it causes her to look over her shoulder at him. A small smile splays across her lips and she nods.

"I'm fine." She mutters as she turns away, looking out in front of her. She licks her bottom lip before she turns back around again. "Going to join me?"

Running a hand across the back of his short, diminishing hair, he complies. Pulling up the legs of his sweats, he bends down and sits quietly next to her as she glances at him from the corner of her eyes.

He crosses his legs and hunches over slightly next to her feeling the warmth of her body next to his. "You know, once you get farther along, you won't be able to do this," he motions to the ground. "You need to be more comfortable. You're lucky I'm letting you do this much, or I'd be carrying you back in," he chuckles.

Glancing at him, she turns her head away from him towards where they first walked by and huffs softly, raising her well defined brow. "Letting me?"

Swallowing, he leans his shoulder slightly against hers, listening to her breathe for a few beats before shifting on the ground.

"You know," he starts. "You really shouldn't be out here."

"I know, Elliot." She turns her head toward him and eyes him full on. "I know."

Shaking his head, he breathes deep before crossing his arms around his chest. "Ok," it comes out softly.

"I can handle it."

Silence takes precedence between them as they listen to the steady, therapeutic trickling of the water. Olivia stares off in front of her as he watches her profile from the corner of his eye. Before he initiates any more conversation, she speaks first.

"Look in front of us. You can't really see it. But you can definitely hear it."

He looks out into the darkness and can see where the dew covered grass dips off and where the soft hum of trickling water begins.

"Stream?"

She nods. "It's one of my favorite spots to relax. Remember what that is?" she glances at him with a small smile.

He smiles back. "Yea. It works?"

"All the time," she answers as she wraps her arms around her waist and looks down at her crossed legs.

"You cold?"

"No," she looks up and purses her lips. "It just feels different this time," she answers softly, honestly.

Nodding his head, not knowing what to say he looks back in front of him as the breeze continues to tickle his chilled skin, causing the dark hairs on his arm to stand on end. "I am," he answers softly, raising his eyebrows and chewing on the inside of his cheek.

She blinks and turns her head toward him. "Go back inside. You don't have to stay out here. I'll be back."

He smiles at nothing and closes his eyes. "Not a chance," he says deeply and looks at her. He catches her eyes in the dimness and she blinks once.

Their gaze lingers and neither move to break eye contact. She swallows and then reaches out for him. Placing her hand on his thigh, he flinches a little. Her bony hand runs down his thigh until it's inches above his knee and then squeezes gently.

Meeting his eyes once again, hers are round pools of brown sadness. She closes them and lets her hand linger on his thigh before speaking in rhythm with the whirlpools several feet away.

"Thank you... for tonight, Elliot. I... don't know what happened. I didn't mean to put that on you. I hope I didn't... " she trails off.

He straightens his back and lets his left hand enclose on top of hers, their touches becoming more and more frequent as the hours pass by. Despite his chilled arms and body, his hand is a warm glove over hers.

He lifts her hand from his leg and moves his underneath hers, cupping their palms without looking at her.

Her hand fits against the crevice of his like a puzzle piece and he sighs. The sensation of her silky skin is euphoric. He hears her take an audible breath at the new contact and that's when he speaks.

"I thought that the "saving your partner from himself complex" was left back in Manhattan," he replies squeezing her hand, joking. When she doesn't respond, he swallows looking over to her closed eyes.

He realizes this is taking the same thing out of her as it is him. It was instinctual to grab her hand and soothe but once again the past runs its course through his mind and then he's wondering if he should let her hand go.

"I mean," he shifts nervously on the hard ground beneath him. "Don't apologize. I would have rather been there with you than having you go through that alone. What would have happened if you were alone, Olivia?" he asks as he sighs into the night.

She nods. "Yea, right place, right time." She shifts a little before looking to the grass between her legs. A small grin reaches the corner of her lips. "You were there looking out for me. No looking over your back to make sure I was okay. You were already there," she surmises not really knowing why she's bringing up ghosts of the past. Or old insecurities they had with each other.

All of a sudden the embarrassment of having him hold onto her while she fought back tears in the emergency room taunts her, contradicting her earlier ease with touching him. The whole ordeal is reminding her that she never allowed herself to be vulnerable around him for a reason.

She hates that he came all the way out here. Hates that he's been nothing but a comfort to her. Hates that he's not only soothed her in ways she's never known him to but he touches her now.

He touches her more now than she can ever recall back in Manhattan. And it makes her angry. It makers her angry because she'd been right all along in knowing that his mere presence was what she need most. But she won't let it override her relief and genuine appreciation.

"Olivia," he draws out. A moment passes and she closes her eyes to the darkness. "I never meant that. If you think I feel any different about your capabilities after the undercover... then... you're wrong. You're wrong and I'm just concerned. I overheard..." he trails off. His heart pounds wondering if he's just said too much.

She opens her eyes and whips her head towards him. Swallowing, she takes a deep breath before turning her head away without saying anything. She plays with the fringes of the blanket and her hands shake slightly.

"What did you overhear?" The question comes out on a exhale and she sounds desperate for him to say something other than what she knows is coming. She looks back at him, her eyes locked on the side of his face and her lips slightly parted.

He stays silent and refuses to meet her gaze as he realizes her tactic. The one where she could grill a suspect with just her stare. With her defiant look saying, "I know you're lying so don't even give me your bullshit," glare.

He takes a deep breath but that's all he can do. No answer comes from him but by the way she plays with the loose threads of the blanket, he knows that she knows he's holding back. That he heard plenty.

She won't say anything more if he doesn't.

Instead, silences rains down on the air around them. Stifling any conversation that had been going on.

She looks out past the darkness and reaches behind her with her free hand for the flashlight. She turns it on and points it at the flow of water in front of them.

The water laps up at the edge of the small bank and she clicks the light off, leaving the moonlight as their pathway.

In a calm voice, she swipes a strand of hair behind her ear and finally speaks, offering a reprieve from the tension.

"It's an outlet to the Big Sioux," she surmises quietly.

He stays quiet giving her to go to continue. "The river. The Big Sioux river. If you follow it all the way down past that breech in the trees," she says as she points her shoulder to their right, "You'll find the waterfall. I've never been down that far. It's too long of a walk but maybe one day."

"One day?" he asks curiously.

She swallows and shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe after the baby is born. It'd be like an adventure for us to go on," she trails off quietly. Her eyes perk up at the thought more than he's ever seen. Her eyes glow as she stares in front of her. He can her eyes glisten and his chest tightens.

A few beats pass before she continues. "Of course when she's old enough," she says as she places her hands lightly over her stomach. Rubbing small circles, she leans back gently against the rock and lets a low moan escape.

He breathes deep as he watches her. It's pandemonium in his mind as he comes to terms with the fact she sees herself here years from now. "Oh yea?" he chokes out curiously. "Sounds like you've got it all planned out," he lets out softly. She moves her back from side to side and he can't help but watch her.

"Comfortable?" he asks.

Shaking her head, she closes her eyes and breathes out her words. "Uh, not really. Can't get comfortable at any angle. I just get used to it."

Pursing his lips, her honesty surprises him. Yet he knows she isn't ready to leave yet.

Closing his eyes, he silently sits and slowly mulls over in his mind of what he wants to do.

He debates with himself and suddenly remembers the boundaries from three years ago. The boundaries formed back in New York, back as partners, back when they hadn't significantly diminished once he'd shown up in her new life out here.

He reaches over and slides his palm flat against her back. She startles before opening her eyes to him. She watches as his arm flexes underneath the dark t-shirt he wore here as he runs his warm palm up and down her back.

Her skin warms underneath his touch and her eyes close. Her pulse starts a low thrum against her stomach and she breathes. Deep.

Just his touch sends heat through her limbs. His thick fingers rub and simultaneously burn her skin with his lazy patterns across the worn out muscles of her back.

She wants to moan but realizes that wouldn't be good. He's Elliot and he's...

"Elliot," she lets his name flow from her lips without opening her eyes.

His fingers still but they don't move from her lower back. "Hmm?" his voice sounds deep from within his chest.

"What's it been like?" she whispers. Opening one eye, she glances at him. "You've never once mentioned anything about what's been going on with you."

He looks at the ground in front of him as her words sift through the air and then bounce around in his mind. He shrugs.

Shaking his head, he looks over to her and catches her eyes again, slowly regaining the eye contact they shared long ago, their silent communication.

"I guess it just never crossed my mind," he tilts his head and shrugs slightly. "Until now."

A moment of silence comes between them again and this time there's something different in the air. "How are the kids?" she asks softly, breaking the ice.

Sniffling from the cold air, he sits up straight and peers down at her crossed legs. Smiling, his voice becomes deeper, fuller as he silently reminisces about his children.

"Well," he breathes out. "They're good. They are all doing their own thing. Driving me crazy and making me proud all at the same time," he stops and looks at her face.

She's smiling, her lips turned to the side as she mentally pictures his kids and what they must look like today. Feeling his gaze on her, she meets his eyes. "Tell me," she quietly urges him on.

Leaning his body in her direction, he scoots himself until his shoulder bumps with hers. Looking at her profile from only inches away, he speaks in a low voice. "What do you want to know?"

Shivering, she turns her head towards his and watches his mouth as she speaks. "Everything," she whispers before glancing at his eyes and turning away. She parts the blanket and plays with the edge of her nightgown.

She had wanted to shed it off all together earlier, before throwing off her covers and finding a different type of release. Calm.

Sitting next to Elliot and listening to him talk is even more of a welcome distraction.

In the three years that she had been out here she had wondered what he was doing all the time. She'd be in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering who he was with. If he was working on a hard case. Or if he was at home having a glass of wine with his ...

She shifts next to him, her shoulder rubbing against his as she waits for him to speak.

"Maureen... she's still working and attending graduate school. She doesn't have much more to go and she'll be making more money than I'll ever see," he sighs. A beat passes and then he swallows. "I can't believe my oldest is doing so much more than I ever did," he shakes his head. "I joined the Marines and then became a cop." He looks at her and she's staring at his entwined hands in his lap.

"Be proud," she whispers stoically, not making eye contact.

"Oh, I am," he smiles to himself letting the moment sit within him. "Kathleen moved out, she's staying with some friends in the city. She's going to be a photographer," he shakes his head in bewilderment. "She took a semester off and is going back to school this fall. And the twins graduated high school this past May," he tapers off, his voice getting softer as he talks about his oldest children.

"Wow," she breathes out. "I'm proud of them for you, Elliot. The last time I saw them, the twins were still in high school and Kathleen was getting back on her feet. I wish I could have watched Maureen graduate with you. I remember when she was looking at potential graduate schools..." she trails off wondering where the time went. How she could have let all that escape her. "You raised some great kids, El. You and Kathy ought to be proud parents, huh?" she nudges him.

She's suddenly very aware of his wife of twenty plus years. As she sat across from in the squad room and daydream about the life he lived away from the station. She'd sit across from him in the sedan and wonder if he kissed his wife every night. If he made love to her when he got home or if he loved her like she loved him when she would call the precinct over Olivia's line when he wouldn't answer his.

Quietness overtakes the conversation for the moment before she swallows hard and makes space between them.

Rubbing a hand down the side of her face, she rests her elbow on her crossed thigh and leans on it as far as she can across her belly. "How's Kathy," she questions, her jaw dancing up and down on her palm.

She hears him breathe in through his nose. "She's... she's good. She took Eli to her mother's two nights ago and is gonna to stay there for a week or so. I told her I'd be back in a week but I don't know if she even heard me."

Olivia furrows her brows, "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, he runs his palm across the back of his head once more and glances at her. "She took Eli to her mothers so she could 'think' about what she wanted to do," he whispers.

She knows it's selfish, but she had hoped that maybe he hadn't come here with possibility ruining something back home.

As if.

"What's going on?" she prods gently, quietly.

She watches him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing within the contours of his neck. Shaking his head, he leans over and presses his back against the rock. "It's, it's nothing."

Wanting more of an explanation, she hesitates only briefly before resting back against the rock with him, staring up where the light of stars blink and shine brightly in the dark blue sky. As the time passes, she guesses they've been sitting for close to an hour and she's almost ready to go back.

Dawn comes around five in morning so they still have time before the light of another day appears among the gap in the trees and the hours and days pass on to the day he leaves.

But once his voice starts overpowering the calming sound of the stream, she listens.

He looks at her, really looks at her and talks.

He tells her about SVU, about his current case, about his daughter's boyfriends and about his marriage.

Failing marriage.

One he doesn't seem so sorry about. She takes that as a sign.

She simply puts her hand on his shoulder and they head back inside.

She lays back against the soft white pillow on her bed.

The blanket is stretched up to her chest and she breathes deep. She's cramping a little again and she wonders if going out there helped at all. She feels agitated yet content with him moving around in the bedroom across the hall.

He had helped her up from the harsh ground and held her hand all the way back to the house. Her hand still burns from his touch. She couldn't help but think of what his hands would feel like on the skin that constantly itches with need.

Normally she would berate herself for even thinking about it while she knew of his life back in the city, but without the ties directly in front of her and her current state, her body does what it wants and it burns. Yearns.

Bravely, wanting to know more but not wanting to push it, she scoots herself up in bed and flicks on the small lamp on her night stand. She wants to know more.

She looks up to the ceiling and watches the shadows dance across the surface from the branches outside of her window. The wind had picked up only moments before they came in and she feels as if there was more to be said. She leans her head against the headboard and sighs. Loudly.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she calls out.

"Elliot?"

She hears shuffling in the other room and the covers being pulled back and wonders if he knows how she's feeling right now. If he can understand the need to have him around. If he remembers when Kathy was pregnant, the need to have a strong entity around her to penetrate the haze of hormones.

In moments, with lazy eyes, he stands against the frame of her door. His right arm is perched against the wood and his left is his hanging against his side. He rolls his head and places it against his upright arm. His face is languid. The beginnings of a beard shadowing his taught jaw and his eyes are dark and glowing all at the same time.

She swallows.

He shifts on his feet.

Seeing her eyes bright even in the dimness of the small lamp, the narrow straps of her nightgown hanging lower on her shoulders than they should be, he breathes. Tries to breathe, deep.

She's staring at him and he's not sure she said anything to him at all by the way she looks at him. Eyes wider than that of someone who should really be asleep.

"Yea? Something wrong," he breathes out in question, trying to contain the urge to walk over to her and lay next to her. Touch her.

She looks down and pulls her hands out from underneath the covers. Dropping them clasped together against the thick fabric, she shakes her head.

"I can't sleep..." she says softly, timidly. "Was wondering if you could talk to me until I could," she smiles slightly, embarrassment showing through the flush in her cheeks.

He closes his eyes. Waits for her to further instruct him on what to do here. He would love nothing more than to lay next to her and watch her fall asleep but he imagines she only wants him on the side of the bed. Or sitting in the old rocker next to the window. When she doesn't speak, he looks up and catches the gleam in her eyes.

She looks worried. "I mean.." she says quickly. "You don't have to, I was just having a hard time with everything that happened."

He stands up and brushes his hand against the nape of his neck and shakes his head. "Nah, Liv. It's fine..." he trails off. Shyly, he walks further into her room and glances at the rocker. "There?" he asks softly.

She catches his eyes with her own and he stops. Shaking her head slowly, she blinks. "Nah," it comes out low, harsh. "Right here," she says unblinking, nervous, timid as she pulls back the covers next to her.

Her heart is racing. She wants him next to her. Closer than even outside against that rock. She wants his warmth against her underneath the softness and security of these blankets. She expels a breath.

He lets her sit there for a moment while he mulls over what she's insinuating. Yes, he had wanted to lay next to her. Yes, he wanted to touch her. Yes, he knew all this but no he had not expected her to offer it up on a silver platter.

He looks down at her briefly as she breathes in and out in measured breaths. Moments pass as the silence drones on around them, both aware of the other, but neither absorbing the significance.

He nods. Barely. Only letting the muscles in his neck to minimal work to move his head. The back of his neck tingles as he swallows and subsequently moves his feet, inching closer to the bed.

Never losing eye contact with her, he steps in small, light steps until his knees bump into the springs in the side of her mattress. The queen sized mattress. "Sure," he says hollow. In a sharp breath. "Whatever you need, Liv," he whispers just enough for both of them to hear in the silent room.

She blinks slowly, dreamily and smiles briefly. She opens her mouth and her tongue scrapes over the inside of her lower lips before she looks down at her half covered form and back up to him. "Which side?"

He blinks. Twice. He doesn't care. He watches as she shifts over at his lack of response and he watches her questioning eyes. Wondering eyes, seeing if he's going to do it. Lay next to her, lay in her bed beside her.

Her breath comes out in short pants and he tries like hell to keep himself under control as she slowly reaches forward and pulls the blanket down even further, revealing her long legs underneath the covers.

Her tan skin shines in its softness he's never felt. The material of her gown having ridden up past her upper thighs. She shifts slightly on her side and subconsciously pulls down at the material until it rests just above her knees.

She's suddenly unbearably nervous. His face is relaxed but she can see the tension in his upper arms that flex slightly underneath that dark burgundy colored t-shirt he has yet to take off. His crucifix tattoo expands and softens as his arm moves to pull back the sheet underneath her.

A barrier. He's going to use it as a barrier she concludes. She sighs in relief yet her heart doesn't stop pounding as his chest, taught with years of building his muscles up in long sessions of weight lifting and punching bags, taunts her as he pulls the sheet down next to the blanket around her feet.

"I... " he hesitates. "I can talk you to sleep, no problem," he whispers harshly, not making eye contact. "Just let me know if you want me to leave before then."

Her eyes widen inadvertently but he doesn't see her. He's slipping off his t-shirt leaving only a white muscle shirt on hanging tightly across the top of his gray sweats.

Sensing her discomfort, he looks at her and stands up straight. "I'm sorry, Liv," he says glancing down at his flushed chest. "I guess I didn't think that through. It's instinct. I do it all the time before I get into bed. If you're uncomfortable, I can put it back on," he stares at her with his bold, bright blues eyes. His thin lips pursed in worry that he's made a mistake.

"Elliot," she shakes her head with a hint of a smile. She's nervous as hell, uncomfortable has been broached. She doesn't care if he doesn't. "It's ok. Really."

Finally he nods and turns around sitting on the bed before looking over his shoulder. "Okay." He turns out her lamp and she smiles at how he takes the initiative and lays back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

She watches him from the corner of her eye as he lays back against the cool sheets covering her mattress and reaches down with one arm and pulls the only the sheet up over his waist leaving his side of the comforter bunched at his feet.

Turning on her side, she watches as he moves around a bit, trying to get comfortable on the unfamiliar mattress. He runs his palms up and down the white material and then stops, taking a breath and letting it out in a long, slow, tantalizing breath.

She watches as he glances at her, she's turned toward him and he flinches at her position. She reaches down past his knee and pulls up the heavy comforter higher on his legs until it rests against his lower waist.

"It gets chilly at night."

He just stares at her, lips parted and she smiles and rests the side of her head against the pillow case and closes her eyes.

It's 4:09 a.m.

They're still awake and he watches her shift uncomfortably on her side of the bed for the hundredth time. He watches as her legs bend and sway from side to side then sit back flat against the mattress. He doesn't know what to do for her. She doesn't whimper in pain, doesn't cry out but she's not content.

Finally when he thinks she's about to lose her cool, she sits still and turns on her side toward him. He's still laying on his back. Having only moved slightly in the hour and a half since he's been lying next to her.

Next to Olivia. Next to a pregnant, radiant Olivia in South Dakota.

"Eli's getting big I bet," she starts quietly. "He running laps around you and Kathy yet?" Her voice comes out methodically and soft and her voice is humming with contentment when all he can feel is her body radiating heat against the blanket next to him.

Scoffing playfully, he turns his head over, looking at her face from the side for the first time and whispers next to her face. "He runs laps around the whole house. He's going to be a runner. Lizzie and Dickie have already planned out his cross country training path around the neighborhood."

She laughs but doesn't speak.

Blowing a breath from his nose, he laughs softly. "Ever since two and half summers ago when... " he trails off. Realizing the significance of the time frame he swallows and tilts his head away from her staring at the glass window to the side of them. "Ever since then, he's been a monster, " he laughs under his breath. He's almost four now," he looks over at her.

She notices but doesn't turn her head that way. Shuddering she mulls over his words. "I can't believe it," she shakes her head. She can't believe she held that baby only minutes old, almost four years ago. Time truly doesn't stand still for anyone. "I remember that day like yesterday. Though, sometimes it's a blur. But, him walking and talking almost ready for school, Elliot where the hell have I been?"

Raising his eyebrows but looking in front of him, he breathes under his breath. "Good question."

She feels his uneasiness seep from his warmness and into her. She closes her eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. Long moments pass before they both settle back against bed tentatively this time an arm's length separates their bodies but it feels as if they are intimately close. He's in her bed and she can't believe it.

Though he's only laying on his back staring at the ceiling, the whole thing breathes of intimacy she never thought possible with him. She licks her lips and looks up to him but his eyes are closed and his hands are clasped together over his slowly rising chest. His breaths deep and timed.

Finally, she realizes he's waiting for her to speak. It's her turn. Swallowing the newly formed lump in her throat, she shifts again and breathes out her next word in a hushed whisper.

It comes out of nowhere.

"Yesterday," she stops, swallows. "Was his birthday."

Elliot doesn't say anything, doesn't move, moves his gaze set to his right away from her. Too far away.

He swallows and glances back at her. "Who," he furrows his brows and tilts his head in curiosity. "He" could mean a myriad of people.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Sitting up slightly, she feels Elliot tense beside her as she places her hands on his arm. She looks in front of her and swallows. Smiling and turning back to him, she answers.

"Brady."

The single name floats in between them and Elliot shifts next to her. She feels his closest hand come up her side and she closes her eyes at how it feels.

It's not right but his hand on her skin makes her flush. Brady's only been in the ground for four months and she can't keep herself from reacting to the man she'd known for over a decade longer.

It's startling. He breathes next to her and she can feel his breath on her neck and she shivers.

He's breathing harder than he should for just laying there and she opens her eyes and glances at his face staring back at her, mere inches from hers. She elaborates.

"Brady Dalton."

He lets out a breath and looks back up to her. "He uh... " he trails off.

"He's the father," she whispers then stops to think about it before continuing. "Of my baby," she offers with a small smile before looking back at Elliot. "He's gone though," she offers in a small voice, almost sad.

Elliot breathes a sigh of relief. Though he feels like an asshole for wanting to know about who she's been with the whole time, but also for fearing that the jackoff is still in her life.

He can't be worth the breath if he left Olivia alone and pregnant. Hell, he never thought she'd let herself get in this position. His heart clenches and breaks for her until she continues. Then it's a rock on his chest, guilt.

Speaking clearly she continues. "He died. He was killed, Elliot. Don't worry I can see it on your face. He's gone and I'm all alone," she sobs the last words.

Sniffling, she sits up against the headboard and hunches over, bowing her head. Shaking slightly and without thinking it through, she grabs Elliot's hand and brings it to her lips. Not kissing it, not pressing it to her lips, but letting it linger against the skin of her mouth. As if she's the one soothing him, as if he's the one with secrets and holes inside so deep he can't fathom what's next.

She holds his lightly clenched fist between both of her hands and closes her eyes.

Elliot swallows hard and watches in disbelief. He doesn't know what to do. Her mouth is on his skin and yet he can't react. Doesn't want to react for fear of doing the wrong thing. Her breath from her nose hits his knuckles and sends chills down his spine. Swallowing, he watches as she simply breathes onto him, into him.

Moments pass and then he blinks his eyes slowly and reaches his opposite arm across his body and wraps his fingers around the side of her neck. Pulling her face closer to his, he rubs his thumb up and down the soft skin of her neck and breathes her breaths as his forehead finds a place on her temple.

She sniffles as they sit in silence, his forehead resting against her temple and she closes her eyes tightly, reveling in the feel of him. Gently, he rocks them back and forth letting all the tension escape the space between them leaving only need and comfort and loss.

He finds himself sniffling as he realizes he's crying silently for her. Not for the loss of the baby's father, but for her. For another missed opportunity.

Olivia lowers their hands to her lap and moves her head against his. Her movement prompts him to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Liv. I had no idea."

Her chest constricts and a sob escapes. Then another. But she's not crying over the loss. She's not crying over the fatherless child growing inside of her, she's crying over him, Elliot. She's crying that he's here and he's found her again when she thought there was nothing left in this world but her and her child.

"Shh, Liv. Don't cry. I don't want you to feel like I don't want you happy. That I'd ever not want that for you, you hear me?" He grips her chin lightly with his thumb and index finger and brings her eyes level with his. "Don't think that ever," he breathes out harshly, emotion pouring through his final words. His eyes moist and slightly reddened by the emotion pouring between them.

She purses her lips and looks into his eyes. His breath hitches at the receding moonlight from the early morning hours catches a glimpse of the moisture pooling in her eyes. She looks so defeated. So vulnerable. So maddeningly beautiful.

She sniffles and blinks her eyes causing a tear to trail down her cheek and stop at the curve of her mouth. It lingers there and she watches his eyes fall to her lips where the tear trail stopped. She knows it's awful. It's painful to feel but it's there. Big and bold like the lettering on the fucking Hollywood sign.

The attraction.

The urge. The feelings. Just like before, they're sifting inside of her as she watches him. He's so familiar and calm and caring. Something she could have always tied him to with his family, but when it came to her it, it was different.

But now, it's hard to look away from him. It's a magnet in his eyes that won't let her look away from him. Right now, he's hers. And he's here. He's here touching her, soothing her, calming her without actually doing anything.

Her heart pounds out of control and she watches as the his eyes narrow and his breathing deepens, quickens.

She lifts her hand to his cheek and he closes his eyes. Rubbing her thumb across the light stubble, his eyes clench tighter.

He feels like he's about to explode. Everything is crashing into him right now. Just by the few words she's finally came clean about, he wants to grab her and take her away from here.

Take the pain away. She's never felt anything but pain and now it's as if she's taken that burden with her when it should be different. They should be the same people as before, but right now, it's different.

His stomach clenches as he reaches up and touches her hand covering his cheek. Once again, the touches, the feeling is overwhelming. He runs his palm up and down her knuckles and he feels as if he's taking advantage of her.

She should be resting, healing, mourning, but all he can do is feel her touch on his skin and remember it for the future. Because they don't do this.

Olivia and he never did this. She's close now, and his eyes open and she's staring at him. Her lips are parted and her breaths are coming out in short pants and he wonder if she's hyperventilating.

Another tears streaks down her cheek and he leans forward trying to rest his forehead against hers again but she presses her hand against his cheek and pulls their faces to eye level.

Without words, she leans in and stops inches from his face, his mouth. Her eyes trail over his lips and back up as she waits for him to answer her silent question.

Their breathing syncs together as they stare and he swallows hard.

Blinking his eyes, he nods. He can't help it. Everything that's happened, been said, been felt since he's been here overrides anything else in this moment, in their lives.

Without waiting for further confirmation, she leans forward and stops inches from his face swallowing the lump in her throat. The hand on his cheek is warm from the pressure of his on top of hers. He gently squeezes and she falls.

She falls deep.

And she falls forward capturing his lips with her own. She captures his within her own and it's a warm heat that surges through her. His lips are soft, thin strips of life. Of longing, of content pressure against her own. She sucks lightly on his bottom lip before letting go. Sitting back, she gasps.

He doesn't let her get far before capturing hers with his and she cries. Silently cries.

He feels so good against her. His lips brushing hers, massaging. She cries because it's the only thing that feels normal in this moment. It feels too right to have his lips on hers as she still mourns the loss of her fiance. Her baby's father. Her hormones outrace her as she deepens the kiss and grabs him around his neck. Running her tongue across the bottom of his lips, she hears him moan under his breath.

She does too.

tbc.


End file.
